


Raising Robin

by The_Devil_In_The_Details_666



Series: Small Songbirds [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Adoption, Fluff, Gen, Hey look another WIP, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Only not really accidental, Tim and Jason adopt a child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:41:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28974543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Devil_In_The_Details_666/pseuds/The_Devil_In_The_Details_666
Summary: Six months after babysitting a de-aged Dick Grayson, Tim and Jason follow in Bruce's footsteps.
Relationships: Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Series: Small Songbirds [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756237
Comments: 126
Kudos: 308





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to MizaiTan for requesting this in the comments of Gleeful Glittering! Ask and ye shall receive. 
> 
> This is set following Birdsitting, but you can read this without having read that.

It had been just over six months since Dick had been de-aged when Tim burst into their apartment halfway through patrol, eyes wild, and shoved his phone at Jason, who was laying on the couch bandaging his sutured thigh. Jason jolted, nearly toppling off the couch, and Tim shoved his phone in Jason’s face. Jason took the phone, eyeing Tim as his husband practically vibrated out of his skin, then looked down at the phone, which displayed an email. Tim snatched the bandages from Jason’s hand, taking over bandaging Jason's leg, and Jason read through the email, excitement building in his chest.

They had been approved to adopt a kid.

_They had been approved to adopt a kid!_

The phone slipped from his fingers, falling to the couch, and Jason dragged Tim up into his lap, cupping Tim’s face in his hands and kissing him fiercely. Tim squeaked in surprise, then wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck and kissed back. They finally pulled apart as Jason started to get dizzy from the lack of air and Tim buried his face in Jason’s neck, mumbling, “I can’t tell if I’m excited or terrified.”

“Both is the appropriate response, I think.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim and Jason had agreed to start with an older kid, one who might not get adopted otherwise. They had planned to go to one of Gotham’s many, many orphanages the first weekend after they got the email. 

Then, in a series of events that was so parallel to his own story that it was almost surreal, Jason found a 12-year old boy with curly black hair and blue eyes trying to jack the tires from Redbird. Jason nearly choked on his tongue, then leapt down to land behind the boy, asking, “Whatcha doin’, kid?”

The boy nearly jumped out of his skin, swinging around with the tire iron held defensively, then paled so rapidly that Jason was worried he was gonna pass out. The kid stumbled back, slamming into Redbird with a dull thunk, then stammered, “I- I- I’m sorry.”

Jason couldn’t help but internally coo, suddenly understanding with perfect clarity why Bruce had taken one look at him and decided to adopt him, then stated, “It’s alright, kid.”

The boy was shaking, stick-thin and clearly half-starved, and Jason glanced at Redbird, noting that two tires had been removed completely and that the kid was working on tire number three. The kid looked like he was ready to cry and Jason quickly sent a message to Tim, then removed his helmet, soothing, “Hey, woah, you’re alright, kid, I’m not gonna hurt you. What’s your name?”

The boy clutched his tire iron closer, hands shaking, and finally answered, “R-Robin.”

“Robin, huh? It’s nice to meet you, Robin. I’m Red Hood. You got any family?”

Robin shook his head wordlessly and Jason heard the faint whir of a grapple before Tim dropped into the alleyway. Tim froze when he saw Robin, then gave Jason a _look_. 

They’d totally found their new kid.


	2. Chapter 2

Robin Walsh was many, many, _many_ things. He was not, however, _stupid_. So when Red Hood caught him trying to jack the tires from his car, Robin wasn’t dumb enough to think that he wasn’t in for an ass-kicking. Sure, everyone knew that Hood didn’t hurt kids, but Robin was 12, barely a _kid_ anymore, and, worse, he was trying to _steal_ from _Red fucking Hood_ and _everyone_ knew what happened to people who tried to steal from Red Hood. And then Red Robin arrived and, well, that was it. Robin was going to be beaten into a bloody pulp and probably die, all because he thought he was skilled enough to jack some fancy tires and sell them off so he could eat and maybe even get a jacket or a pair of shoes that had a sole that wasn’t made of duct tape. Because stealing from Red Hood was one thing, but everyone knew Hood was temperamental and soft on kids, so maybe he’d go easy on Robin or maybe he’d get bored halfway through kicking Robin’s ass and Robin could escape or maybe he was just in a good mood and would let Robin go with a few broken fingers and a warning. 

Stealing from Red Hood _and_ Red Robin, however… Well. There was a reason everyone said that Red Hood and Red Robin were the most terrifying couple to ever walk the Earth. Red Robin was cold, focused, and would stop Hood from getting bored or distracted or going easy. And the fact that Red Hood was there meant that Robin’s ‘Get-out-of-an-ass-kicking-free’ card was probably useless, because the odds were good that Hood had heard Robin’s info somewhere else, but he had to try anyway.

“I know where Two-Face is hiding his most recent shipment of explosives!”

Robin was shaking, staring at Red Robin and Red Hood where they were in the middle of what appeared to be an entire silent conversation, and Red Robin’s face flickered to surprise and then to amusement for a second before he asked, “Do you now?”

Robin nodded, clutching his tire iron, and bargained, “I’ll tell you if you let me go without hurting me.”

Red Robin looked over at Red Hood, an unreadable look on his face, and Hood nodded, looking _pleased_. Then Hood stated, “Look, Robin, we can’t let you go. You’re obviously starving and you said yourself that you haven’t got any family. So how about this. Red and I know a couple who recently got approved to adopt a kid. They’re good people and I know for a fact that they’d love you. We’ll take you to stay with them. You’ll be safe with them.”

Robin’s stomach sank and he had to swallow back the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. 

_He was so doomed._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robin soon found himself in the backseat of the very car he’d been jacking tires from, half a burger from Bat Burger in his hands and the rest of it threatening to come back up as Red Hood drove them towards the Diamond District. Red Robin had left after putting the tires back on the car, claiming he was continuing patrol, and Robin swallowed back the vomit rising in his throat, then asked, “Who are you taking me to?”

Red Hood looked at the rearview mirror, then answered, “Friends of ours. Tim and Jason Drake-Wayne-Todd.”

Oh god, Robin was gonna be sick. He was gonna puke in the back of Red Hood’s car and then Red Hood was gonna beat him up and then dump him with two rich guys and everyone knew that rich guys only wanted street rats like Robin for one thing and-

“Hey, woah, breathe, Robin, c’mon, breathe. In, now hold it, now out. Just like that.”

Robin blinked, forcing himself to breathe how Red Hood told him to, and slowly realized that Red Hood had pulled over and was crouched in front of him where Robin was sitting on the edge of the seat by the door. The acrid smell of vomit burned Robin’s nostrils and, with a detached feeling of absolute terror, he looked down at himself and realized that he had thrown up all over himself, the seat, and the floor. Red Hood had a hand on Robin’s shoulder, rubbing soothingly, and Robin felt himself starting to cry. Hood pulled his hand away, then softly stated, “You’re okay, Robin, you’re gonna be okay, I promise. I know this is scary, trust me, I know better than probably anyone else in the world, but Tim and Jason won’t hurt you.”

Robin curled in on himself, no longer even caring about the fact that he was covered in his own sick, and sobbed. There was a beat of silence, then Red Hood quietly asked, “Can I give you a hug, Robin?”

Robin nodded and Red Hood gently pulled him into a hug, rubbing Robin’s back and murmuring, “You’re alright, kiddo, it’s okay.”

Robin curled into him, bawling like a baby, and Hood held him, murmuring soothingly until Robin was able to stop crying. Once Robin had cried himself out, Hood finally let him go, stating, “Tim and Jason won’t hurt you, but I know full well that my word isn’t enough. So here.”

He pulled what looked like a small keychain with a small red button in the center out of his jacket and set it in Robin’s hand, explaining, “This is a panic button. If you’re ever in danger, I want you to press the little red button, okay? Just press the button and I’ll come get you.”

Robin clutched the panic button, then whispered, “Okay.”

“Good man. Shall we?”

Robin nodded and Red Hood patted his shoulder, then the door was closing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robin must have drifted off at some point, because he woke up to Red Hood gently shaking his shoulder, calling, “Time to wake up, Robin.”

Robin groaned, but pried his eyes open and staggered to his feet, feeling worn out and groggy. Hood set a hand on his shoulder, steering Robin into a warm building, and Robin slowly blinked himself into something resembling awakeness as they entered an elevator. The elevator was fancy, fancy enough that it made Robin far too aware of his own grubby state, and they rode in silence for a long time before the doors slid open with a soft ding and Red Hood led Robin out into a posh-looking hallway and over to a door. Red Hood knocked and there was a beat of silence, then the door opened and a sleepy-looking man with shaggy black hair and an oversized t-shirt opened the door, yawning and asking, “Wha’s goin’ on?”

Robin recognized him as Timothy Drake-Wayne-Todd and Mr. Drake-Wayne-Todd blinked a few times, his gaze falling on Robin, then his eyes widened and he stated, “Oh. Come on in.”

Red Hood ushered Robin in and, moments later, they were seated on a plush couch and Mr. Drake-Wayne-Todd was sitting across from them, asking, “So. What’s your name, kid?”


	3. Chapter 3

Mr. Drake-Wayne-Todd (“Tim, please. The only time anyone calls me Mr. Drake-Wayne-Todd outside of work is when my family is making fun of me”) seemed nice enough, if a bit dorky. Robin still didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him, but he was willing to give it a try, if only because Red Hood was vouching him an, more pointedly, it was cold as fuck outside and freezing to death sounded miserable. Tim grabbed him a pair of clean clothes that apparently belonged to his younger brother, soft black sweatpants and a cozy red sweater, and ushered Robin into the bathroom to take a shower, instructing him to put his dirty clothes in the hamper so they could wash them. Robin took his time in the shower, reveling in the hot water and in being clean, _really_ clean, for the first time in nearly a year, and finally got out, changing into the clothes Tim had given him. He put his clothes in the hamper, then stepped out of the bathroom after a bit of hesitation and found Tim sitting on the couch with a guy in grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt. The man looked over at Robin and gave him a smile, greeting, “You must be Robin. Tim tells me Red Hood brought you by?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Jason, Tim’s husband.”

Robin nodded again and Tim gave him a soft look, then stood and stated, “We should probably let you get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

He led Robin to what appeared to be a guest bedroom and Robin collapsed into the bed as soon as the door was closed and locked. 

_How the fuck was this his life?!?_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Robin laid in bed, wondering if he could slip out the window and make a run for it (and if he even _should_ ), but finally got up, stomach rumbling, and poked his head out of the door. He could hear movement in the kitchen, the soft clanking of pans and the sound of something sizzling, and the smell of bacon came drifting towards Robin, making his stomach rumble loudly. There was the sound of something being poured, then Tim stumbled out of the bedroom down the hall from Robin’s and into the kitchen like a zombie. He heard Jason laugh softly and Robin swallowed hard, then carefully stepped out of the bedroom and crept towards the kitchen. He reached the doorway of the kitchen and stood at the edge of it, shifting from foot to foot, until Jason looked over his shoulder and gave Robin a smile, greeting, “Mornin’, Robin. You can sit. Breakfast’ll be ready in a few minutes. You okay with bacon and eggs?”

Robin nodded, sliding into the seat across from Tim, who was hunched over a steaming black mug and looked half a step above dead. Jason hummed quietly, the kitchen otherwise silent but for the sizzling of bacon and eggs, and Robin finally asked, “How come Red Hood brought me to you guys?”

Jason snorted, flipping the bacon onto a plate, and answered, “I’m fairly certain he probably told you that Baby Bird and I ‘ve been lookin’ for a kid to adopt. And I have no doubt that he found it _so funny_ that he caught you trying to jack the tires from Redbird, considering that’s what got _me_ adopted when I was your age.”

“Huh?”

Jason carried the plate of bacon and eggs over, snagging a Wonder Woman mug from the counter, and explained, “When I was 12, I tried jacking the tires from the Batmobile. Batman caught me, dumped me with Bruce Wayne, and I ended up getting adopted.”

Robin blinked at him as Jason filled a plate with bacon and eggs and passed it to him, then hesitantly asked, “How would Hood know about that, though?”

“Eh, Hood and I go way back. It’s a long story.”

Robin nodded, then started in on the eggs as Jason poked Tim’s cheek, cooing, “Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey, Baby Bird.”

“Mmmmghm.”

Jason snorted at Tim’s oh-so-eloquent answer, then snatched the mug from Tim’s hands and replaced it with a fork, stating, “No more coffee until you finish the plate.”

Tim gave a pathetic little whine, but began shoveling eggs into his mouth with a reckless abandon to rival Robin’s own. Tim finished his plate at roughly the same time Robin did and Jason gave another snort of laughter as Tim made grabby hands at him, mumbling, “Give coffee”, but placed the mug in Tim’s hands and stated, “You’re cute, Baby Bird.”

Tim humphed, then curled around his coffee and drained the mug. Jason filled his own plate, then pushed the dish of eggs towards Robin and asked, “Want more?”

Robin wasn’t one to turn down food and refilled his plate, wolfing the eggs down. His stomach felt stuffed to the brink, almost painfully so, but Robin eyed the last bit of the eggs, wondering if he could eat it without puking. Before he could, though, Jason stood and gathered up the dishes, stating, “We should head out and get you some clothes and shoes and stuff.”

“O-Okay?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, Robin was following Jason into a relatively nice-looking clothing store in the mall, not particularly high-end, but still way nicer than anywhere Robin had ever shopped before. He let Jason pick out most of the clothes, only giving his input when prompted, and they finally headed out once Jason had purchased more clothing than Robin had owned in his entire life. Once they were done in the clothing store, though, Jason turned to Robin and asked, “So, what sort of stuff do you do for fun?”

Robin shrugged, then looked down at his new sneakers and answered, “My dad and I used to fix up old computers and sell them. And my mom taught me to knit and stuff.”

Jason nodded, then led Robin through the mall to a smallish shop with a sign that read “Stitch Witches”. They went in and Robin couldn’t help but relax slightly at the cozy interior, with large shelves of yarn and thread and needlepoint canvases and a whole wall of crochet hooks and knitting needles and embroidery hoops. An elderly woman was sitting at the cash register, but she stood when they came in, putting her hands on her hips and declaring, voice fond and teasing, “Why, if it isn’t the little hellion himself! Where’d you lose your grandpa, young man?”

Robin blinked, baffled, but Jason just laughed and answered, “Alfred’s not with me this time, Mrs. Rose.”

The woman, Mrs. Rose, narrowed her eyes, then spotted Robin. Her gaze snapped back to Jason and Jason set his hand on Robin’s shoulder, stating, “Tim and I decided to adopt and Robin here mentioned that he liked to knit. I figured you’d probably be more help than I would in helping him find some stuff.”

Mrs. Rose’s eyes went wide and she answered, “Oh, how wonderful! Come along, dear, we’ll get you what you’re looking for.”

Robin hesitantly followed Mrs. Rose around the shop, answering her questions with his shaky knowledge of knitting, and he soon had an armful of yarn, needles, reference and pattern books, and various other odds and ends that Robin vaguely recognized. While he was being treated to the whirlwind that was Mrs. Rose, Jason had meandered over to the embroidery and needlepoint supplies, looking curious. He picked up one of the reference books, flipping through it, then set it down and picked up one of the beginner’s embroidery kits, studying it for a moment before walking over to the counter and setting it beside the various and sundry knitting supplies that had begun piling up. Mrs. Rose paused in her explanation of different yarn weights, looking over at Jason, and Jason shrugged with a ‘Who, me?’ expression on his face, stating, “Tim’s always saying I need a hobby. I figured this looked interesting.”

“Uh huh, a likely story. You, young man, have more hobbies than anyone I’ve ever met, you expect me to believe that?”

“What can I say, I’m a renaissance man.”

“You’re something, alright. Honestly, how your grandfather puts up with you lot, I’ll never understand.”

“Alfred is a god who exists beyond mortal understanding, Mrs. Rose. I’m not at liberty to say more.”

“Drama queens, the whole hoard of you. Could give those Bats a run for their money.”

“Hey, we were raised by a classically trained Shakespearean actor. What do you expect?”

Mrs. Rose laughed at that, then patted Robin’s shoulder and stage-whispered, “Keep that fool and his husband from getting into too much trouble, would you, dearie?”

Robin couldn’t help his giggle as Jason helped him unload his arms onto the counter and Jason pouted at Mrs. Rose, griping, “I thought you loved me, Mrs. Rose!”

“That’s why I’m asking this responsible young man to keep you and that husband of yours out of trouble. I’m too old to be worrying about you two.”

Jason opened his mouth, but Mrs. Rose shook a finger in his face, stating, “If you flirt with me, you little hellion, I swear I will call Lydia to come chase you out with her broom.”

Jason laughed, holding his hands up in surrender, and answered, “Alright, alright, no flirting!”

“Brat.”

Jason laughed, fishing out his wallet as Mrs. Rose loaded their purchases into bags, and handed over his card, continuing chatting with Mrs. Rose. Robin scooped up two of the bags and Jason took the other two, calling, “See you around, Mrs. Rose!”

Robin bit his tongue, but waved, giving Mrs. Rose a shy smile as he followed Jason out of the shop. 


	4. Chapter 4

When they arrived back at the apartment, Jason helped Robin get all the tags off the new clothes, sheets, and blankets they had bought, then loaded the laundry into the washing machine for a cycle before asking, “Want to help me make lunch?”

Robin hesitated, then answered, “Uh, sure, I guess? I don’t really have much experience cooking, but I’ll try. Or at least try to not cause problems.”

“I can promise you that you will be less of a hindrance in the kitchen than Tim is. I love Tim dearly, don’t misunderstand me, but the man is a menace in the kitchen.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, following Jason into the kitchen, and Jason began pulling ingredients out, passing them to Robin to be set on the counter as he regaled Robin with tales of Tim’s Kitchen Catastrophes. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, the alfredo sauce is burning, the shrimp are, quite frankly, beyond saving, and the noodles are boiling over, right? And so I once again ask Tim if he wants my help, because holy fu-uh, fudge, this is a disaster, and he’s like ‘No, absolutely not, it’s your birthday, I can do this!’ And-”

“And, to save what little is left of my dignity, I’m going to go ahead and tell you that we ended up going out for dinner that night and that Jason got his wish of a new stove. Thank you, Jason, for no doubt regaling Robin with every tale of my kitchen mishaps you could come up with.”

Jason grinned, then teased, “Not _all_ of them, Baby Bird. I haven’t gotten to the garlic bread incident!”

“And you never will, unless you want _me_ to tell Robin about your first attempt at peanut brittle.”

Jason laughed, but mimed zipping his lips and looked at Robin, stating, “Sorry, kid, guess you’ll just have to wonder about what happened with the garlic bread.”

Robin couldn’t help his own smile, his stomach slightly sore from laughing at all of Tim’s mishaps, and Tim plopped onto one of the barstools at the counter, resting his chin in his hands and asking, “What are you two making, anyway? It smells good.”

Jason looked over to Robin, who glanced at the recipe and answered, “It’s called, uh, chicken saltimbocca?”

“Ooh, nice. Want some help making a salad to go with it?”

Robin eyed Tim suspiciously, but was saved from having to answer by Jason turning away from the stove to point at Tim with his tongs, answering, “No. Absolutely not. We’d like the salad _edible_ , thank you very much.”

Tim made a face at Jason, then rolled his eyes and looked back at Robin, who continued chopping tomatoes how Jason had shown him. They lapsed into peaceful silence for a bit, Tim ducking out halfway through to take a phone call. Lunch was ready by the time he returned, looking vaguely annoyed, and Robin set the table as Jason asked, “Yo, Baby Bird, how much coffee have you had today?”

“Not enough.”

“Too much, got it.”

Tim made another face at Jason’s back as Jason retrieved three cups from the cabinet and filled two with water, then Jason asked, “Want do you want to drink, Robin?”

“Um. Water is fine?”

Jason nodded, filling the third glass with water, then carried all three over and set them on the table before dropping into his seat. Lunch passed quickly, Robin mostly distracted from Tim and Jason’s conversation by the sheer _deliciousness_ of the chicken saltimbocca, and the dish was soon emptied just as the dryer beeped. Tim checked his watch, groaned, then stated, “I’d better go. I think Tam will _actually_ kill me if I’m late to another meeting.”

Jason kissed Tim’s forehead, gathering up the dirty dishes, and answered, “Go appease the scary assistant, Baby Bird. And tell her that I’d like you home with all of your remaining organs and that I’ll make her those hazelnut cookies she likes if you remain intact.”

Tim stuck his tongue out at Jason, unable to hide the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, and waved to Robin as he headed out the door. Robin started to help Jason with the dishes, but Jason gently shooed him out of the kitchen, stating, “You can go get your laundry and start putting it away. I got this.”

Robin retreated from the kitchen and into the laundry room, piling his clothes into the laundry basket Jason had gotten for him, and was about to pick it up to head to his room when there was a crash of breaking glass from the kitchen and Jason sighed, “Would it kill you to at least use a different window? I know this family is basically allergic to using doors like normal people, but _come on_. At least use the living room window or something, you ass.”

A cheerful man’s voice answered, “Sorry, Little Wing! I’ll pay you back for the plate.”

“You can pay me back by using the living room window rather than the kitchen window.”

“We’ll see. So, what do you have planned for tonight?”

Robin crept over to the laundry room doorway, peeking into the kitchen, and spotted a man with tan skin and black hair sitting on the edge of the sink, dressed in a black shirt and jeans. He had blue eyes and a warm, cheerful smile and Jason sighed where he was leaning against the kitchen island, answering, “Just tell me what you want, dickhead.”

“Well, I was thinking we could have a family dinner before-”

“No can do.”

The man pouted in a way that should have looked a lot more ridiculous on a guy who was probably older than Jason than it did, then whined, “Awww, c’mon, Jaybird, why not?”

“I have my reasons, which you don’t need to know.”

“Why? Why why why why why why wh-”

“I should’ve slit your throat when I had the chance.”

“But ya didn’t! So why don’t you want to do a family dinner, Little Wing? I promise not to tell anyone if it’s embarrassing.”

“Get out of my house, dickbag.”

“Not until you tell me.”

“I will throw you out that fucking window.”

“And I’ll come right back, you know I will.”

Before Jason could say anything else, Robin’s nose started to itch and, despite his efforts to hold it back, a sneeze tore through him. Muffled though it was by Robin clamping a hand over his nose and mouth, the man clearly heard it, because he perked up, sliding off the counter, and chirped, “Is that a Timmy I hear?”

Jason sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead, then answered, “No, it’s not.”

“Then who was that?”

Jason groaned, then called, “You can come on out, Robin.”

Robin winced at having been caught, then poked his head out of the laundry room and squeaked, “Sorry.”

The man’s eyes went wider than Robin thought physically possible and he started bouncing on his toes like an actual child, glancing between Jason and Robin with a gleeful grin on his face. Jason rolled his eyes, then introduced, “Robin, this is Dick Grayson, Tim’s older brother. Dickhead, this is Robin Walsh. Tim and I are adopting him.”

The man, Dick, made a noise like air being let out of a balloon, bouncing on his toes, and squealed, “Oh my god, that’s so cute!!”

Robin blushed slightly, puffing up in offense at being called ‘cute’, and Jason groaned, then stated, “This is exactly why I didn’t want to introduce him to you lunatics yet.”

Dick lunged, half-tackling Jason in what appeared to be either a hug or a stranglehold, possibly both, and Jason sighed again, patting Dick’s back as Dick half-shouted, “My little brothers are dads!”

Then he suddenly jerked back, gasping, and asked, “Wait, does this mean that I’m an uncle?!?”

Jason groaned, then asked, “If I say yes, will you leave?”

“Only if you pinky promise to come to the family dinner tonight and bring Robin! I want to see Bruce’s face when he finds out!”

Jason sighed, then looked at Robin and asked, “Are you okay with going to a family dinner with us tonight? It’s okay if you’re not comfortable with it, I totally get it.”

Robin nibbled at his bottom lip, then answered, “I… I think so?”

Jason nodded, then rounded on Dick, herding him towards the window as Robin ducked back into the laundry room to grab his laundry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Dick has appeared!


	5. Chapter 5

Robin was totally not panicking as they drove up to _Wayne fucking Manor_ to have dinner with _Bruce fucking Wayne_ (and family).

Totally. 

Not. 

Panicking.

“Seriously, Robin, if you’re not comfortable with this, it’s not too late to turn around and head back to the apartment. Dick may be a nuisance, but he’ll understand, and Tim and I are both more than happy to head back to the apartment and wait until you’re more comfortable.”

Robin took a deep, shuddering breath, his head between his knees, then answered, “I’m okay, I’m okay, we can go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mmhm.”

Robin could tell that Jason didn’t believe him, which was fair considering that Robin barely believed _himself_ , but stated, “If you say so, Robin. But if you change your mind at any point or want to leave once we get there, just let us know and we’ll head out.”

Robin nodded, slowly straightening up, and Tim glanced at him in the rearview mirror as he drove. Jason was twisted around in the passenger’s seat, looking concerned, and Robin rubbed his hands over his thighs, glancing down at the bag containing the hat he had started knitting after he’d finished with his laundry and then out at the sky, wondering if there was enough light to knit a few rows to help keep his mind off the impending dinner. Then they were passing through ornate wrought iron gates and oh god, they were at Wayne Manor. Tim pulled the car up a driveway that was, in Robin’s opinion, needlessly long, and finally came to a stop in an enormous loop around a large stone fountain, parking the car and turning to look at Robin. Robin rubbed his sweaty palms over his jeans, looking up at the enormous house, then looked back at Tim and Jason and weakly asked, “You’re sure I’m not underdressed?”

Sure, the jeans, dark red shirt, and comfy black sneakers he was wearing were easily the nicest things that Robin had ever owned before that morning, but he was also emphatically _not_ a multi-billionaire and he felt quite a bit like he was in the deep end with bricks tied to his ankles. 

Tim snorted, pulling Robin out of his spiral before he could work himself into another panic, then answered, “I guarantee that you will be better dressed than at least half of us.”

Robin nodded, grabbing his bag from the floor, and tucked it close to his chest like a safety blanket as they got out of the car. He stared up at the Manor, feeling more like a child than he had in _years_ , and Jason patted his shoulder gently as they approached the door. Tim rang the doorbell, then glanced at his watch, stating, “Alfred, less than two minutes.”

“Dick, less than thirty seconds.”

Tim shot Jason an incredulous look, then jolted backwards when something heavy slammed into the door from the other side. Then the door was being flung open to reveal Dick, who was rubbing his shoulder with a chagrined look on his face as he called over his shoulder, “Don’t look at me like that, Babs, you love me and you know it.”

Tim huffed, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, passing a few bills to Jason. Jason smirked, then greeted, “Evening, Dickiebird. You gonna just stand there or are you gonna let us in?”

Dick stepped aside, waving them in, and Robin clutched his bag to hide the way his hands shook as he looked around the giant entryway. A red-haired woman in a wheelchair rolled over, looking a mix of confused, amused, and exasperated, and started, “Jason, Tim, any idea why my idiot fiance practically threw himself down the stairs to get the- Who is that?”

Robin bit down on his reflexive squeak and Jason set his hand on Robin’s shoulder lightly, answering, “This is Robin. Tim and I are adopting him. Robin, this is Barbara Gordon, Dick’s fiancee.”

Barbara’s eyes went wide and she stated, “Oh. _Oh._ I need to go make sure the cameras in the dining room are recording! B’s face is gonna be _hilarious_.”

Dick nodded as Barbara left and Robin shifted awkwardly, looking around. The sound of nails clacking against the hardwood reached him and a large black dog with a graying muzzle trotted over, tail wagging, to sniff Jason’s hands. Jason grinned, leaning down to scratch the dog’s ears, and Tim introduced, “Robin, this is Titus.”

The dog, Titus, stepped forward to sniff at Robin’s hand, then licked Robin’s fingers and shoved his snout into Robin’s palm. Robin gently patted Titus’s head, making Titus wag his tail happily, and Jason pulled a small dog treat from his pocket, passing it to Robin and stating, “Here.”

Robin took the treat, then held it out to Titus cautiously, hoping he wouldn’t accidentally get bitten. Titus sniffed the treat, then took it from his hand gently, tail thumping against Dick’s thigh as he gulped it down. Dick laughed, patting Titus’s back, then joked, “Congratulations, Robin, you just made a friend for life.”

Robin smiled, petting Titus, and Jason snorted, wrapping his arm around Tim and asking, “Shall we introduce you to the rest of the hoard, Robin?”

“Uh. Sure?”

“Alrighty then. Let’s go.”

Jason and Tim led Robin through the house into a sitting room, where two guys, one in his mid-twenties and one who was in his late teens, were playing chess. The older guy glanced up when they entered, then dropped his chess piece and asked, “Oh god, they’ve multiplied.”

The younger guy turned, asking, “What are you talking about, Thom- Drake. Todd. You have a child.”

“Thank you for stating the obvious, Demon Brat. Duke, Damian, this is Robin, Tim and I are adopting him. Robin, this is Duke and Damian, our brothers.”

Robin waved and Duke turned to cough into his elbow for a minute, then turned back and asked, “Robin, huh? Cool name.”

“Thanks? The second Robin saved my mom from a mugging while she was pregnant with me and she named me after him.”

Duke shot Tim and Jason a look, looking inexplicably amused, and Robin caught sight of Jason flipping him off out of the corner of his eye before Tim swatted Jason’s arm lightly. Duke grinned, then stated, “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Robin.”

“Nice to meet you, too?”

Damian eyed Robin in a way that made Robin feel not unlike a bird being hunted by a cat, then turned back to the chessboard.

“Tt. Father must be pleased.”

“B doesn’t know yet. And you’d better not tell him, unless you want a certain video of you to get ‘accidentally’ leaked.”

“Oh man, his face is gonna be priceless. Tell me you’re filming it?”

Jason snorted, then answered, “Please, Narrows, what do you take us for? Babs is already on it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forty-five minutes after arriving at Wayne Manor, Robin found himself sitting in a comfy armchair in the living room, his knitting project in hand as he desperately tried to figure out where he had gone wrong. Jason had disappeared to go get someone named Alfred and Tim was sitting with Duke and Damian, giving chess advice to both of them that Robin suspected was probably useless, if not entirely made up. Titus was sleeping on Robin’s feet, keeping them warm, and Robin gave a frustrated little growl as he glared at the half-formed hat and, more specifically, at the hole that had developed where there wasn’t supposed to be a hole. Then the sound of footsteps reached him and he looked up as Jason re-entered the room, an elderly man with a mustache just behind him. The man’s eyes widened when he spotted Robin and Jason grinned, stating, “Congrats, Alfie, you’re a great-grandpa!”

The man, presumably the Alfred that Jason had left to go get, brought a hand to his chest and stated, “My word, Master Jason. I see that you and Master Timothy have taken after Master Bruce.”

Jason laughed, then introduced, “Alfred, this is Robin. Robin, this is Alfred Pennyworth. He raised Bruce and more or less raised us, so he’s pretty much our grandfather, even though he’s technically a butler on paper.”

Robin blinked, trying to process that sentence, then answered, “It’s, uh, nice to meet you?”

“It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Master Robin. May I ask what you’re making, there?”

Robin looked down at his knitting project, frowning slightly, then answered, “Well, it’s supposed to be a hat, but I went wrong somewhere and now there’s a hole and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Alfred walked over, then offered, “I can take a look, if you would like. I do a fair amount of knitting myself, so I may be able to help.”

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

Robin handed his project over to Alfred, who examined it for a moment before stating, “You appear to have done a knit stitch while the yarn was in the purl position. A common mistake. Unfortunately, you will have to unravel your project back to here and redo it.”

“I was worried I’d have to. Thank you, though.”

“Of course, Master Robin. If you ever have inquiries or require assistance in your knitting projects, you are welcome to ask me.”

Robin gave him a smile, getting a small smile in return, and Duke leaned over to Tim, whispering, “Oh man, I think Robin just replaced Jason as Alfred’s favorite.”

Tim snorted, then leaned back and answered, “We all knew that was coming.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About an hour later, Tim was ushering Robin into the dining room while Dick apparently went to go distract Bruce. Robin settled into the seat between Tim and Jason, looking around, and Tim sent a quick text as Damian and Duke settled into their own seats. Barbara, and two women Robin had learned were Tim’s sister Cass and her wife Steph were already seated, as were three more guys, one in his teens, one Tim’s age, and one in his forties, all black-haired, blue-eyed, and wearing glasses. Robin’s knee bounced under the table as Dick entered, expression full of barely contained glee, and Bruce Wayne himself entered a moment later, settling into the seat at the head of the table and leaning over to kiss the oldest guy in glasses. He glanced around the table, eyes skimming over Robin, then stated, “I’m glad you could all make it.”

Dick pressed a hand to his mouth, eyes watering as he tried to stifle his laughter, and Bruce raised an eyebrow, asking, “Something funny, Dick?”

Dick shook his head, then turned to bury his face in Barbara’s shoulder, giggling like a maniac. Bruce looked halfway between perplexed and resigned, then turned to the oldest guy in glasses, asking, “Clark?”

Glasses Guy, Clark, glanced around the table, eyes skimming over Robin for a second before snapping back to him as Clark asked, “Uh, Bruce, when did you get a new kid?”

“I… didn’t?”

Bruce looked over the group again, his eyes landing on Robin, and his brows furrowed for a moment before his eyes went wide and his gaze snapped to Tim, who was peacefully drinking water. There was a moment of quiet, then Bruce prompted, “Tim?”

Tim hummed thoughtfully around the rim of his glass, his lips twitching as he tried to suppress his own laughter, then set his cup down and stated, “Apparently the adoption urge can be acquired via osmosis. I blame you entirely.”

Bruce gave a slightly choked noise, then, sounding strangled, asked, “You mean…?”

Jason broke at that, laughing spilling out of him, and finally wheezed, “Why don’t you introduce yourself, kid?”

Robin shot him a puzzled look, but introduced, “Um. I’m Robin. Walsh. Uh, Tim and Jason are adopting me?”

Bruce’s eyes went even wider and his mouth opened into a surprised little ‘O’ that made pretty much the rest of the table burst into laughter. Bruce appeared almost frozen, the only movement the tears steadily welling in his eyes, and Tim glanced at Jason, then stage-whispered, “I think we broke him.”

Then Bruce was looking down at himself and whispering, “I’m a grandfather.”

“Yeah, old man, you are. Congrats, it’s a boy.”

Bruce looked rather like he had just been hit with something heavy, apparently still reeling, and Barbara reached over to lace her fingers with Dick’s, then cleared her throat and stated, “This seems like a good time to add that we have an announcement.”

Bruce’s gaze snapped to her and Dick squeezed her hand tightly, practically vibrating in his seat as she finished, “I found out this morning. I’m pregnant.”

The room went dead silent for a split second, then pandemonium erupted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Na na na na na Bat Gramps!


	6. Chapter 6

Dinner passed quickly and with a significant amount of chaos before everyone finally calmed down, but they had soon eaten and migrated to the living room. Robin took a seat in one of the armchairs a little ways away from the main clump of people and had just pulled out his knitting to work on when Bruce came over, his eyes more than a little damp as he sat down across from Robin. Robin gave him a shy smile, hoping that his internal screaming wasn’t visible in his expression, and Bruce smiled back, asking, “So, Robin, how did you meet Tim and Jason?”

Robin winced slightly, then answered, “Uh, well, um, Red Hood and Red Robin found me and brought me to them when they found out that I didn’t have any family.”

“Oh? How did Red Hood and Red Robin come across you?”

Robin winced again, shrinking down, then mumbled, “I was, uh, maybe trying to steal their tires.”

“You… were…”

Of all the things Robin expected Bruce to do when he found out that Robin was _technically_ a criminal, bursting into laughter was not one of them. But sure enough, there he was, shoulders shaking and one hand pressed to his mouth as he laughed. Which was confusing.

“Uh. What- Why is that so funny?”

Bruce managed to stifle his laughter, eyes still crinkled with amusement, then answered, “Did Jason not tell you how I came to adopt him?”

“Batman found him stealing the tires from the- _Oh_. Okay, I get it now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, after much talking and a round of Monopoly that nearly ended in a murder, Tim, Jason, and Robin piled into the car and headed back to the apartment. Jason drove, which was good, because Tim passed out pretty much the minute the engine started, slumped against the door with his mouth hanging open slightly. Jason snorted as he pulled out onto the main road, then asked, “So, Robin, what’d you think of the rest of the family?”

Robin nibbled his lip, then answered, “They seem nice? Uh, very… interesting?”

“You’re allowed to say crazy, don’t worry. We’re well-aware that our entire family is bonkers.”

Robin couldn’t help his giggle, but continued, “I thought Mr. Wayne was going to cry every time he looked at me. Or at Dick and Barbara.”

“Oh, he was. And just call him Bruce. When I told him that Tim and I were thinking about adopting a few months ago, I thought he was going to have a crisis. I believe his exact words were ‘I’m barely 45, I’ve got five kids, and I might be a grandpa soon’. He nearly cried. And then with Dick and Babs’ announcement… Pretty sure we crashed the entire computer he calls a brain.”

Robin giggled again and Jason shot him a smile in the rearview mirror, then let them lapse into peaceful silence. They soon reached the apartment building and Jason parked, then got out of the car. Robin grabbed his bag, getting out as well, and Jason handed him the keys, then stated, “I’m putting you in charge of unlocking the door, since last time I tried to do it while carrying Tim, I nearly dropped him.”  
  


Robin nodded, then Jason moved around the car and opened Tim’s door, scooping Tim up like a child and leading the way into the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Robin woke up to the acrid smell of something burning. He scrambled out of bed, shoving his feet into his shoes, and rushed into the living room, where he spotted smoke billowing out of the kitchen as Tim swore loudly. Robin raced over, heart racing, and found Tim hunched over a pan, trying to scrub what appeared to be charcoal out of a pan. Tim glanced up when he heard Robin’s footsteps, then gave a sheepish smile.

“Sorry about the smell, Jay had a thing this morning and I, uh, _tried_ to make pancakes.”

Robin looked at the pan, brow furrowing, then, words slipping out before he could stop himself, asked, “That was a _pancake_?”

As soon as he said the words, he tensed, but Tim just laughed, ears turning pink, and answered, “Given all of the kitchen disasters Jay no doubt told you about yesterday, is it really that surprising?”

“I guess not. Still, though. I had kinda assumed he was exaggerating.”

“He probably wasn’t. I can admit that, while I have many skills, cooking is not among them. So. Wanna go out for breakfast?”

Robin bit back a smile, then answered, “Well, given that my options appear to be that or charcoal, sure.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up at the rich boy who can’t cook. I’m still not convinced you and Jason aren’t related.”

Robin couldn’t help his grin at that and Tim laughed, rolling his eyes and sighing, “Just go get dressed and we’ll go out for breakfast.”

Robin retreated to get dressed and emerged in a pair of comfy jeans and a warm hoodie. Tim smiled at him, retrieving his keys, then led Robin out to the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were soon seated in a booth at IHOP, looking over the menus. Or, at least, Robin was looking over the menu. Tim was doing something on his phone, his nose scrunching up as he typed. Then his phone started ringing and he groaned, looking at Robin and requesting, “Can you wait here for just a moment?”

Robin nodded, offering, “Want me to order for you?”

“No, I won’t be long. Thanks, though.”

Robin nodded and Tim retreated to stand just outside the building, answering his phone. Robin continued fiddling with the menu, then jolted in surprise when a blonde man slid into Tim’s seat, staring at Robin like a cat watching a mouse. The intense gaze made the hair on the back of Robin’s neck stand up and he shifted uncomfortably, glancing over the man’s shoulder to see if Tim was coming back. Then the man stuck his hand out and stated, “I’m Michael Morris, reporter with the Gotham Star.”

Robin stared at him, mentally willing him to _leave_ , then answered, “Cool.”

“And you are…?”

“Not supposed to talk to strangers?”

Michael gave a laugh that was painfully fake, then answered, “Cute. Did Mr. Drake tell you to say that?”

“I’m pretty sure what Tim has talked to me about is none of your business.”

Michael’s smile was becoming strained and Robin raised his menu to study it, hoping that the guy would _take a fucking hint_. Instead, the guy asked, “What are you thinking of ordering?”

“Breakfast.”

That got him another fake laugh, then a hand grabbed the menu and pulled it down as Michael asked, “So, what’s your name, kid?”

“I’m once again pretty sure that’s not your business. Please leave me alone.”

“Aw, c’mon, kid, throw me a bone here.”

Panic was slowly building in Robin’s chest and he finally set the menu down, then stated, “Leave me alone.”

“Give me a name and-”

“I’ll give you two seconds to leave before I start screaming.”

Michael narrowed his eyes, like he was daring Robin, and Robin took a deep breath. Before he could scream, however, Tim’s voice greeted, “Mr. Morris. Is there a reason you’re harassing my son?”

Michael’s gaze snapped to Tim, who looked just shy of murderous, and then back to Robin as he asked, “Your son, Mr. Drake?”

“It’s Drake-Wayne-Todd. And yes, my son. Who you are currently harassing.”

Michael scoffed, then answered, “I was trying to make polite conversation.”

“With a minor who was about to start screaming to make you leave him alone. Which, last time I checked, is called _harassment_. Something that you have been charged with… Is it 5 times now?”

Michael flushed angrily, then snapped, “That’s not your business.”

“Oh, so _you_ can harass a minor for information, but when someone confronts _you_ with information that is in the public record, you get pissy? Seems rather hypocritical to me.”

Then Tim smiled, slow and dangerous in a way that made Robin think about Red Robin, and finished, “I suggest you leave my family alone, Mr. Morris, unless you’d like to add another harassment charge to your record.”

Michael scowled, but stood and stalked off. Tim dropped into his seat, then quietly apologized, “I’m so, so sorry, Robin. I didn’t realize that he was here. I would have never left if I had. Are you alright?”

Robin looked down at the table, the panic that had been building in his chest seeping away, and answered, “It’s okay. I’m okay. Just… Is that gonna happen a lot?”

Tim hesitated, then sighed, “Most of the paparazzi know better than to try that, but I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again. Jay and I are planning to hold a press conference and ask for reporters and paparazzi to please respect your privacy, and most will, since they don’t want to get arrested or sued, but there’s always a handful of vultures who don’t have the good sense to keep their noses out.”

Robin nodded, then shifted in his seat and asked, “What do I do if that happens again?”

“Honestly, what you just did was a pretty good approach. Tell them to leave you alone and if they don’t, start screaming.”

Robin nodded, making a mental note.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They ate in peaceful silence for a while before Tim finally asked, “So. School. Thoughts?”

“It’s alright. I haven’t been since… since my parents died, but I didn’t mind it.”

“Thoughts on Gotham Academy?”

Robin couldn’t help the way his nose wrinkled as he answered, “It’s a rich kid school.”

Tim pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle his giggles, then squeaked, “Oh man, I wish Jay was here.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, but Tim waved his hand dismissively and stated, “Unfortunately, it’s also the school you’re gonna have to be enrolled in.”

Robin slouched, frowning, but sighed, “Fine.”

“The call I got was from Gotham Academy. They want you to come in for a placement test today.”

“Aww, c’mon. Seriously?”

“Seriously. Sorry.”

Robin slunk down further in his chair, grumbling, but finally huffed, “Fine.”

“For what it’s worth, I’ll take you out for ice cream afterwards.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later, Robin emerged from the Headmaster’s office at Gotham Academy with a cramped wrist and a headache from staring at tests for an hour and a half. Tim was sitting in the office lobby, doing something on his phone, but he looked up when Robin and the secretary, Ms. Smith, stepped out, asking, “Done already?”

“Yep.”

“Alrighty then. Ready to head out?”

Robin nodded and Ms. Smith stated, “We’ll call with the results about where Robin should be placed by this afternoon.”

“Sounds good.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive! Sorry for the long wait, I have no excuses, I'm just like this as a person.

As soon as they had left Gotham Academy, Tim asked, “Ice cream?”

“Yes, please.”

Tim nodded as they drove, then, after a minute, stated, “There’s some paperwork I need you to sign in order for Jason and I to adopt you.”

Robin blinked in surprise, then answered, “Oh. Okay.”

He nibbled at his lower lip, hesitating, and finally asked, “Do I… Do I have to sign it now?”

“Not if you don’t want to. Currently, Jason and I are fostering you and you’re not in any danger of being taken away, so take as much time as you need to decide. Even if you decide that you don’t want us to adopt you, that’s okay.”

Robin nodded, toying with the string on his hoodie, and Tim hummed softly as they pulled up outside a brightly colored ice cream shop and parked. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After getting ice cream and talking for a while, Tim and Robin headed back to the apartment, where Robin settled in the armchair to continue working on his hat and Tim flopped on the couch, answering emails and doing work from his laptop while the TV played in the background. Tim’s phone began ringing about an hour or so in and he answered it, greeting, “You’ve reached Tim Drake-Wayne-Todd.”  
  


He listened for a minute as Robin recounted the stitches in his row, then answered, “Alright. I’ll discuss it with him. Thanks.”

He hung up, then stated, “That was Gotham Academy, with the results of your placement test.”

Robin squirmed, suddenly feeling nauseous, and asked, “And? How far behind am I?”

“They recommended you be placed in 6th grade with some after-school tutoring in Math to get you to where you need to be.”

The tension leaked back out of Robin and he answered, “Oh. Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why didn’t either of you warn me that the fancy rich person school has a _uniform_? I look ridiculous!”

Tim, who was huddled around his coffee cup, mumbled something and Robin looked at him, raising an eyebrow and asking, “Is he okay?”

Jason laughed, then answered, “Tim’s fine, he’s just not a morning person.”

Tim groaned, then mumbled, “I’m not even sure I’d classify as a person.”

“You hush, Baby Bird. And I’d’ve thought that it was obvious that the ‘fancy rich person school’ has a uniform, because god forbid any of the pampered little princes and princesses see someone dressed like an actual person.”

Robin made a face at Jason, flopping into the kitchen chair, and Jason just ruffled his hair and set a plate of pancakes in front of him, ordering, “Eat up. Timmy’s driving you to school.”

“I am?”

Jason sighed, looking fond, and answered, “Yes, Baby Bird, you are.”

Robin swallowed his bite of pancake, then, curiosity nagging at him, asked, “How come you call Tim ‘Baby Bird’? Where’d that nickname come from?”

Jason paused in making sandwiches, then traded a glance with Tim before the two proceeded to have what appeared to be an entire silent conversation with just their eyes. Finally, Jason sighed and answered, “It’s… a long story. We’ll tell you tonight, okay?”

“Okay?”

Robin continued eating, then put his plate in the dishwasher and went to grab his bag and shoes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The minute Robin set foot in Gotham Academy, he wanted to turn tail and bolt. The whole place made his skin crawl slightly, with its perfectly manicured lawn and overly clean bricks, and Robin forced himself to keep walking towards the doors despite every instinct in his body screaming at him to run in the opposite direction. His neck prickled with the ingrained sense of being watched and he curled his fingers around his keys, then nearly jumped out of his skin when a cheerful voice behind him greeted, “Are you Robin Walsh?”  
  


Robin whirled around, barely restraining himself from decking the guy who had snuck on him, and, after a moment of trying to calm his racing heart, answering, “Y-Yeah. You are…?”

“I’m Jake, the student liaison. I’ll show you around and help you find your classes and everything. Sorry for sneaking up on you.”

Robin nodded, still trying to relax, and Jake suggested, “May I see your schedule? There’s still forty-five minutes before homeroom, so we should have enough time for me to show you around some and introduce you to your teachers.”

Robin nodded again, then belatedly realized that he actually needed to get out his schedule and blushed, shifting his bag so he could unzip it and pull out the schedule Tim had printed out for him the night before. He handed it over to Jake, who gave him a bright smile, and Jake glanced over it, then handed it back and led Robin into the building, asking, “So, are you nervous?”

“A little. Worried about not being able to fit in.”

Jake nodded as he led Robin through the hallways, then answered, “That’s fair. I actually just started attending Gotham Academy this year and just about had a panic attack my first day.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m not actually from a wealthy family. I’m here on a Wayne Foundation Scholarship.”

Robin relaxed slightly, then answered, “Oh. That’s cool. I, uh, I’m actually a foster kid to Tim and Jason Drake-Wayne-Todd. I’m not originally from a wealthy family.”

“Really? Wait, have you met Bruce Wayne?”

Robin nodded and Jake asked, “What’s he like? I’ve heard he’s totally different from his public persona.”

“He, uh, he didn’t realize that I was there until someone else pointed me out. But he seems nice? Kinda quiet and awkward? I only talked to him for a few minutes.”

Jake nodded, then stopped outside a classroom and announced, “This’ll be your homeroom, and third period, with Ms. Benton. She’s nice. Wanna go in and meet her before class?”

Robin hesitated, then answered, “Oh, uh, sure?”

Jake knocked on the classroom door, then opened it and stepped in, greeting, “Ms. Benton? Are you in here?”

A woman’s voice answered, “Oh, Jake, good morning. What brings you here this early?”

Jake waved for Robin to enter, then answered, “You have a new student in your homeroom and third period and I was assigned as the welcoming party. Ms. Benton, this is Robin Walsh. Robin, this is Ms. Benton.”

Robin waved shyly, then stated, “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Benton.”

Ms. Benton smiled brightly, then answered, “It’s nice to meet you, too, Robin.”

She stood from her desk, then walked over to a desk in the back and patted it, stating, “You’ll be sitting here once class begins. And if you’ll give me just a moment, I can get you a copy of the syllabus and all that.”

Robin nodded, feeling a little more relaxed, and Ms. Benton returned to her desk, sifting through the drawers until she had amassed a small stack of papers, which she brought over to Robin, explaining, “This is all the papers and such for homeroom and third block. Do you have a copy of The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton?”

Robin took the papers, then answered, “I do.”

“Excellent. We started it just before Thanksgiving break and are going to go over Chapter One and start Chapter Two in class today, so you should be okay there.”

Robin nodded along, stuffing the papers into his bag, and was soon whisked away to meet his other teachers.


	8. Chapter 8

Robin didn’t hate Gotham Academy nearly as much as he thought he would. Ms. Benton was great and his math teacher Mr. Fiama seemed cool, but his science teacher, Mr. Thame, was a grade-A jackass and his history teacher Mrs. O’Neal was so boring that Robin could feel his brain leaking out of his ears as she droned on and on and _on_. He also had art with Mrs. Weaver, who seemed nice, if a little odd, and PE with Coach Reske, who was extraordinarily overeager and enthusiastic to the point of being overwhelming and unsettling. The other students were split between snobby assholes and a handful of people like Jake, who were actually really cool and who Robin felt comfortable tentatively calling friends. There was Odessa Garrett, who had gotten a Wayne Foundation Scholarship through a science-fair project about pollution, Robert and Margot Henderson, who were the children of one of Gotham’s rare non-corrupt politicians, and Apple Blossom Gillespie, who introduced herself as Apple Blossom and then immediately followed it up with “But I go by Katy because my mother is a lunatic who named me _Apple Blossom_ ” and whose mother was, apparently, an actress from Metropolis who had moved to Gotham and became an “alternative health” guru who apparently whole-heartedly believed that Gotham’s pollution had health benefits. Jake had invited Robin to join them for lunch and Robin had accepted and then spent the entire lunch period watching as Robert and Katy argued about baseball teams, Odessa occasionally throwing in comments to egg them on. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time school let out, Katy had invited the five of them to go get hot chocolate at a nearby cafe. Margot and Robert had declined, having to attend a political gala with their mom that night, but Jake and Odessa had immediately agreed. Robin hesitated when Katy looked at him, then answered, “I need to check with Jason when he picks me up.”

Katy nodded, then answered, “Okay. We can wait for you.”

Robin smiled hesitantly and Odessa leaned against the bench, asking, “So, Robin, what’d you think of your first day at Gotham Academy?”

Robin tugged at his tie, joking, “I think I can’t wait to get out of this uniform.”

“That is an entirely fair point. Just be glad that you’re allowed to wear pants and not freeze your legs off in a skirt.”

Robin frowned at that, then asked, “Wait, wait, wait, you’re not allowed to wear pants?”

Katy threw herself onto the bench with a dramatic huff and Odessa rolled her eyes at Katy’s dramatics, then answered, “Nope. According to the dress code, girls can wear skirts and that’s it. We don’t even have the option of long skirts or wearing leggings with our skirts!”

“We live in _New Jersey_! Are they trying to give you hypothermia?!?”

Katy threw her hands up, voice echoing in the courtyard slightly as she shouted, “THANK YOU!”

Odessa huffed, stating, “It’s bullshit. A few of us have tried petitioning the school to change the dress code, but it hasn’t worked yet.”

Robin nodded, frowning, then spotted Jason at the school gates, playing on his phone. Robin gave Jake, Odessa, and Katy a quick smile, then jogged over to Jason and called, “Jason!”

Jason looked up, giving Robin a smile, and greeted, “Hey, kid. How was school?”

“I made a few friends and they invited me to go get hot chocolate with them. Can I go?”

Jason raised an eyebrow, looking amused, and answered, “I’d like to meet your new friends first, if that’s alright.”

Robin nodded, then ran back to where Katy, Jake, and Odessa had gotten into a spirited discussion about how best to force the school to change the dress code and interrupted their discussion before their plans could go from ‘ill-advised’ territory into flat-out ‘illegal’ territory, explaining that Jason wanted to meet them. Jake and Odessa both looked vaguely alarmed at the prospect of meeting a Wayne, but Katy just stood from where she was sprawled across the bench and dusted off her skirt, stating, “I think I’ve met him before, but sure, let’s do this.”

Jake and Odessa traded nervous looks, but followed Katy down to the gate, where Jason was standing. Katy stepped up first, before Robin could do anything, and stuck her hand out to shake, introducing, “I’m Apple Blossom Gillespie, but you can call me Katy. We met last year at the Starlight Gala.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, looking deeply amused, and shook Katy’s hand, answering, “Jason Drake-Wayne-Todd. Call me Jason. Your mom was the one who told me I should try using tea tree oil to heal my broken wrist, right?”

“Sounds like her. I don’t know, I don’t keep track of the nonsense she tells people.”

Jason laughed, then turned to look at Jake and Odessa, asking, “And you two are?”

Jake squeaked, turning scarlet and ducking down to hide behind Odessa, and Odessa rolled her eyes at Jake, then introduced, “I’m Odessa Garrett and this is Jake Doyle.”

“Nice to meet you, Odessa and Jake. Mind if I accompany you four to get your hot chocolate? I’ll pay.”

Odessa shrugged and Katy stated, “Sure. Assuming Jake is okay with it, at least.”

Jake gave another squeak, then, voice at least two octaves higher than normal, answered, “That’s fine.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, looked very amused, and asked, “You good, kid?”

Jake nodded and Katy hitched her bag higher on her shoulder, walking down the street as she answered, “Jake’s just having a meltdown because he’s here on a Wayne Foundation Scholarship and is meeting an adult member of the Wayne family for the first time.”

Odessa laughed, dragging Jake with her as she followed Katy, and Robin and Jason followed close behind as Jason stated, “Well, for what it’s worth, I won’t bite.”

They soon reached the cafe and got their hot chocolate and some muffins, then settled at one of the cozy tables. Jason took one of the armchairs across the room, close enough to keep an eye on them but far enough away to give them some privacy, and they spent a couple hours just enjoying themselves before Odessa glanced at the clock and stated, “I gotta head out. My sister is supposed to pick me up soon and she always gets pissy if I’m late.”

Her pronouncement caused Jake to realize that his dad was waiting for him and Katy decided it was probably time for her to head home as well. They said their goodbyes, then Robin made his way over to Jason, who stood up and asked, “Have fun?”

Robin grinned, then answered, “Yeah! Thanks for staying and letting me hang out for so long.”

“No problem, kid. I’m glad you’ve made some friends.”

They headed back to the apartment as Robin told Jason about his day, feeling like he was a kid again. Jason nodded along, asking questions and, when Robin mentioned Mrs. O’Neal, Jason laughed and asked, “Wait, seriously? She’s still teaching? Dam- Uh, dang. She’s… What, like 80, now?”

Robin nodded, then grumbled, “She’s so boring. I like history, but she just drones on and on and on and on and it’s so… _ugh_.”

“Yeah, I remember having her class. I think I spent more time in that class sleeping than doing literally anything else. A bunch of kids used to refer to her class as nap time.”

“I can see why. I think I was the only one in that whole class who was actually trying to pay attention.”

They soon arrived at the apartment, where they found Tim, dressed in a full 3-piece suit, hair still neatly gelled, draped over the back of the couch like some sort of giant cat and fast asleep. Jason rolled his eyes, looking fond, and gently pushed Tim off the back of the couch, sending Tim toppling onto the cushions with a yelp and a flail. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They ended up getting takeout that night, since Jason didn’t feel like cooking, and settled in the living room. Once they were all comfortable and full, though, Jason and Tim traded a look and Tim stated, “There’s something we need to talk to you about, Robin.”

Before Robin could panic, because that was the same thing the cops said just before telling him that his parents had been killed by the Joker, Jason soothed, “It’s not bad news.”

Robin stared at him, not entirely believing him, and Jason hesitated, then continued, “We… haven’t been entirely honest with you, Robin.”

Robin stuffed his hands in his hoodie pocket to hide the way they shook as he squeaked, “Oh?”

Jason nodded, then stated, “I told you your first night here that Red Hood and I go way back. Which is… not technically a lie, but not the whole truth.”

Robin nodded, mind whirring, and Jason took a deep breath, then stood and left the room, returning a moment later with a _very familiar_ red helmet in his hands. Robin stared at it, feeling his brain glitch out, and Jason finished, “I’m the Red Hood.”

Robin blinked, trying to process, then, mouth apparently detaching from his brain, asked, “Does that mean you’re cheating on Tim with Red Robin?”

Tim made a choking noise and Jason groaned, then answered, “No, Robin, I’m not cheating on Tim with Red Robin.”

“But everyone knows that Red Hood and Red Robin… are…”

Robin snapped his head to look at Tim, mentally comparing him with Red Robin, and Tim smiled, stating, “I’m Red Robin.”

Robin continued to stare at him, feeling his brain glitch as the things other members of the Wayne family had said and done slotted into place, and he finally squeaked, “That’s why Duke thought my name was so funny. Oh my god.”

“Oh yeah, the whole family found your name hilarious.”

“I… I’ve been adopted by two of the most famous power couples in Gotham. How is this my life?”

Jason snorted, then answered, “Mood.”

“Oh god. Steph is Batgirl. I told Batgirl that I thought she was a total badass and didn’t even realize it.”

Tim pressed a hand to his mouth and giggled and Robin gave into his desire to bury his face in his hands, half-wailing, “ _How is this my life_?!?”

Jason patted his shoulder as Robin had an internal meltdown, then, once Robin had pulled himself together, sighed, “You know you can’t tell anyone about this, right?”

Robin nodded hurriedly, then promised, “I won’t, I swear!”

Tim nodded, smiling, and Jason ruffled Robin’s hair, answering, “We trust you, Robin.”

Robin smiled hesitantly, then hesitated as a thought occurred to him and looked at Jason, quietly asking, “Is it true you were the second Robin?”

Jason looked surprised, but answered, “Yeah, kid, it is.”

Robin squirmed and finally stated, “Thank you. For saving my mom. I- I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“Of course, kiddo.”

Tim turned on the TV as Robin worked through the knowledge that he had been adopted by none other than Red Hood and Red Robin. They sat in peaceful quiet for a while, some cheesy sci-fi show playing in the background, and Robin felt himself slipping towards sleep before a thought struck him and he jolted upright, yelping, “Holy shit, Batman is my adoptive grandfather!”


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, Jason dropped Robin off at school and Robin made his way to the bench where Margot, Katy, and Odessa were huddled together under a dark blue blanket, shivering, while Robert and Jake stood in front of them like they were watching out for someone. Robin frowned as he approached, then asked, “Are we not allowed inside yet?”

Katy shook her head, scowling at the doors, then answered, “The PTA parents are coming in this morning for their weekly bootlicking session, which means that us peons who don’t have a parent in the PTA have to stay outside and act all prim and proper so that we ‘present a good image for the school’. Which, apparently, we can’t do while sitting in the lobby or waiting in the cafeteria.”

Robin huffed, then answered, “That’s stupid. They do this  _ every week _ ?”

“Sometimes twice a week, if Headmaster Welworth is trying to milk donations from the PTA for something.”

Katy huffed angrily at Margot’s quiet contribution, but, before she could add her own commentary, Robert suddenly stated, “Adult.”

In a heartbeat, the blanket was scrunched up and stuffed in Katy’s open backpack, which she pretended to rifle around in as she turned to Odessa and, as though she was halfway through a conversation, stated, “Honestly, I think he seems like an unreliable narrator.”

It was obvious that they had experience in the maneuver, as Margot had an open book in French in her lap that she began reading and Jake and Robert began talking immediately. Robin did his best to act natural and turned like he was listening to Jake and Robert’s conversation, catching sight of a middle-aged woman with a bleached blonde bob and a snotty look walking towards them. Robin did his best not to squirm as she passed by, giving them all a critical look, and, as soon as they were gone, the blanket reappeared and Robin let out a relieved breath, asking, “How did you learn to do that so well?”

Margot gave a pleased smile, then answered, “Our sister Georgie taught me and Robert that trick when we started attending in 4th grade and we’ve been doing it since.”

“Gotta say, that’s impressive. How can I help?”

Robert slung his arm over Robin’s shoulders and answered, “Help us keep watch and if you see anyone not dressed in a uniform, just say ‘Adult’ and then act natural and join our conversation.”

“I can do that. I used to act as the lookout for some of the other street kids when they’d do stuff.”

Jake fistbumped Robin and they shifted to keep watch for the 45 minutes until they were  _ finally _ allowed into the building for class. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next surprise for Robin rolled around at lunchtime, when Robin entered the cafeteria a few minutes late and found it completely and utterly silent. He had just slid into the seat beside Odessa that he had occupied the day before and opened his mouth to ask why everyone was being so quiet when Margot shook her head, putting a finger to her lips as Odessa discreetly passed him a piece of crumpled notebook paper that read, “Silent Lunch. We’re not allowed to talk/pass notes/etc.”

Robin frowned, baffled, and mimed writing. Odessa glanced around, then passed Robin a mechanical pencil, which he used to write, “Why?”

He passed the paper and pencil to Odessa, who glanced around again and scribbled, “Someone pissed off H.M.”

She showed him the note, then quickly stuffed it under her thigh as a teacher walked by, giving everyone a look like she was just  _ waiting _ for an excuse to yell at them. Sure enough, three tables down from where they were, she suddenly lunged forwards, snatching up a piece of paper, and crowed, “HA! Thought you could pass notes, did you?”

The kid was soon marched off to the Headmaster’s office and Robin traded a wide-eyed glance with his friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robin finally got the chance to talk to his friends after school, when he found them at what he was beginning to think of as ‘their’ bench. He sat down and, without even pausing to think or moderate his language, he asked, “What the fuck was lunch about?”

Margot huffed, though Robin wasn’t sure if it was about his language or the reminder of lunch, then answered, “It was about Headmaster Welworth going on a power-trip because he’s a crusty old man who peaked in high school and bullying a bunch of schoolchildren is the only thing that makes him feel alive.”

They all stared at her and Margot squirmed slightly, blushing, and muttered, “At least, that’s what Georgie told me when I asked her.”

Robin broke first, pressing a hand to his mouth as he tried and failed to suppress his giggles, and Katy scrambled to grab her notebook from her bag, stating firmly, “Repeat that. I need to write it down. That’s amazing.”

Margot repeated herself, Katy scribbling it down, and they soon turned to other topics.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim picked Robin up from school and Robin wasted no time in going on a tirade about his day, from the fact that they were forced to freeze that morning to the silent lunch to Mr. Thame calling on him when he  _ clearly _ didn’t know the answer, that was why he didn’t raise his hand, before turning to grumbling about how the dress code was stupid as he shrugged out of his dumb blazer and pulled off his tie. Tim nodded along, giving encouraging little hums, but, when Robin mentioned that it was so stupid that girls couldn’t wear pants, Tim suddenly asked, “Wait, that rule is still in place?”

“Yes, and it’s stupid! Katy said that they can’t even wear leggings under their skirts!”

“Oh man. Steph used to complain about that rule all the time back when we were in high school. We were actually planning to…”

He trailed off, his face taking on a thoughtful expression for a moment before he mused, “I wonder if they’ve even changed the dress code since I was there.”

“Why?”

Tim gave a smirk that was 100% Red Robin, then answered, “Because, depending on if they’ve changed it, I may have an idea of how you can force Headmaster What’s-His-Face into changing the rules.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They hadn’t changed the dress code. Tim and Robin spent Wednesday and Thursday combing through all 376 pages of it, Tim growing progressively more mischievous-looking as they did, and finally, on Friday morning, Tim suggested, “You should see if your new friends are interested in coming over on Saturday and I can tell you guys about the plan Steph and I hatched back when we were in high school.”

Jason looked up at that, glancing between Tim and Robin, then shook his head and clearly decided he wanted no part in their scheming. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering, I have been in a private school exactly once and that was to pick up my cousin, who was a student there and whose experiences at that school are what I'm basing Robin's experiences with Gotham Academy off of, including the dress code, the 'Silent Lunches', and the students having to sit outside in sub-zero weather freezing their legs off while the shitty asshole headmaster entertained the PTA parents. The blanket trick was actually something that my cousin and her friends used to do so they didn't freeze to death and apparently they only got caught like three times in the five years that she was there.


	10. Chapter 10

Saturday afternoon, Robin was practically jittering out of his skin, bizarrely nervous to have his friends over. He was excited, but there was an anxiety in his chest that gnawed at him and prompted Jason to put him to work helping make the bread dough for dinner while they were waiting, claiming that watching Robin pace was making _him_ anxious. Robin was halfway through kneading the dough, covered to his elbows in flour, when there was a knock at the door and Tim called, “I’ll get it.”

Jason shooed Robin to go get cleaned up and Robin scampered over to the kitchen sink as he heard Jake saying something. As soon as he was mostly flour-free, Robin headed out to the foyer, where Tim, Jake, and a woman who Robin assumed was Jake’s mom were standing. Jake grinned when he saw Robin and Robin greeted, “Hi! Sorry, I was helping Jason make bread.”

“No worries, Robin. This is my mom. Mom, this is Robin.”

Robin gave Mrs. Doyle a smile, shaking her hand, and stated, “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Doyle.”

Mrs. Doyle smiled back, then answered, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Robin.”

Robin made quick work of dragging Jake away to the living room and Jake looked around, musing, “Y’know, with how rich Jason and Tim are, I was expecting something more like Katy’s place. This is way less anxiety-inducing.”

Robin grinned as they flopped on the couch and answered, “I’ve obviously never been to Katy’s, but I think I get the gist of what you mean. And yeah, it surprised me, too, when I first got here.”

They talked a bit longer, then the doorbell rang again and Robin and Jake darted to the foyer as Tim opened the door, greeting, “Oh, Councilwoman Henderson!”

Margot and Robert were there, grinning, and they quickly abandoned their mother to join Robin and Jake. Odessa arrived with her sister, Violet, a few minutes later, and the five of them started a game of Go Fish while waiting for Katy, who arrived twenty minutes late with her mother, looking supremely annoyed. Her mother immediately began talking to Tim about how she was just _so happy_ that Katy was finally making some _suitable_ friends, then turned to talking about how TIm looked _just so tired_ and has he considered trying urine enemas? Katy buried her face in her hands, looking miserable, and Robin wasted no time rescuing Katy from the conversation, abandoning Tim to Ginger Gillespie’s ramblings about the benefits of urine enemas. They retreated to the living room, setting on the floor again, and Katy flopped down in a heap, muttering, “Sorry about being late. My mom was being… _Ugh_.”

Odessa patted Katy’s head gently, then answered, “Don’t worry, we made sure to warn Robin that you were chronically late to our meet-ups because of your mom.”

Katy groaned, but sat up and let Robin deal her into their game, asking, “Robin, you said that you had an idea about how to get the dress code changed?”

“Any threes? Damn. And Tim is the one with the idea. He and his sister-in-law, Steph, came up with it when they were at Gotham Academy, but they never had the chance to implement it. He hasn’t actually told me what the plan is, though, so we’ll have to wait until he escapes your mom.”

Katy groaned again, handing over two cards to Odessa, then answered, “In that case, we’ll never hear it. My mom’ll keep talking to him until he shrivels up and dies.”

“Don’t underestimate Tim. He’ll probably fake a phone call or something to get out of it.”

Sure enough, just after Margot had wiped the floor with all of them, Tim entered the living room and stated, “If I hear the phase ‘urine enema’ ever again, I’m going to peel off my skin.”

Robin giggled and Katy groaned, stating, “I am so sorry about her.”

“No worries. Robin mentioned you go by Katy?”

“Yes, because my mother is a lunatic who _named me Apple Blossom_.”

Tim laughed, then settled on the floor beside Robin and asked, “So. Ready to plot out a revolution?”

Odessa and Katy both lit up and Jake grinned as Margot and Robert nodded eagerly.

Tim looked delighted and stretched to grab the copy of Gotham Academy’s dress code from the coffee table, dropping it in the center of their little circle and stating, “As I’m sure you all know, Gotham Academy’s dress code is incredibly thorough, regulating everything from the color of your braces bands to how you lace your shoes.”

Katy made a face at the book and Robert stretched his legs out, muttering, “Yeah, cause the school is run by a dictator.”

“It is. But here’s the thing: It has a few glaring loopholes that you can exploit without _technically_ breaking the dress code. Assuming, of course, that you’re willing to look a little ridiculous.”

Jake rubbed his hands together like a supervillain and Margot leaned forward, asking, “What kind of loopholes?”

Tim grinned and flipped open the booklet, answering, “Regulation 32.4 A: Students must wear laced black leather shoes with a heel no more than half an inch high. Laces must be black, with no additional colors…”

He read through the rest of the shoe regulations, then looked up at the group and stated, “And yet, despite all of those rules, at no point do they state that shoes must be worn on your feet. There is no rule stopping you from pinning your shoes to your blazer or putting them on a headband.”

Odessa grinned, then stated, “There’s also no rule regulating what color the soles of our shoes can be. It only says black _leather_.”

“And it doesn’t technically say that we have to wear oxfords! We could wear black leather pixie boots or something!”

“Do platforms count as heels? Like, if I wore platform boots with a six inch platform, would that violate the thing about the half-inch heel?”

Tim put a hand to his chest, wiping an imaginary tear away, and stated, “I have never had more hope for the new generation. Truly, you are all chaos goblins after my own heart.”

Katy was practically vibrating, jotting down notes, and Tim flipped a few more pages, reading out the regulations about skirts and pants. Then he grinned and stated, “The rules state that any student may wear a skirt, but the skirt regulations specifically refer to _girls’ skirts_. There isn’t a single regulation pertaining to boys’ skirts.”

Jake lit up and Robert grinned, finishing, “Which means that us boys can wear whatever skirt we want.”

“I wanna wear a mini skirt!!”

Jake looked like he was about to erupt out of his skin with delight at the idea of wearing a mini skirt and Tim grinned, answering, “And there isn’t a single rule in this entire booklet that can technically stop you. Though I would suggest discussing it with your parents first, in case they get called in.”

Jake waved a hand, stating, “My mom thinks the dress code is stupid, too. She would totally be fine with it.”

Tim continued through the dress code, pointing out loopholes. Ties must be worn at a certain length, but there were no regulations about which end of the tie had to be hanging down, nor any regulations about which side of the tie had to be facing outwards. There were no regulations saying that blazers had to be worn _on top_ of shirts, nor any regulations about clothing being worn right-side out. Hair color and cut was regulated, but there was no regulation regarding how hair could be styled beyond accessories. There were regulations for what types and styles of jewelry could be worn, but there was no limit on how many _pieces_ of jewelry could be worn. By the time they had picked apart each rule and worked out loopholes, all six of them were hyped up and ready to cause chaos. Tim looked unbelievably proud of them and Jason, who had emerged from the kitchen about halfway through their scheming and settled on the couch, finally piped up.

“Steph is gonna be all kinds of pissed when she finds out that you’ve been planning this without her.”

Tim paled, then answered, “Oh man, she’s gonna kill me.”

Katy was scribbling down plans and Odessa suggested, “You could always call her, right? She can help us plan out when the best time to do everything is.”

Tim scrambled to his feet, retrieving his laptop from his office, and stated, “Odessa, you are brilliant.”

Odessa blushed, looking pleased, and Tim clicked around on his laptop for a minute before Steph’s sleepy voice greeted, “What the Hell, boyfriend? I was out until like 6 this morning.”

“Steph, I’m corrupting the next generation.”

“I want in.”

Tim flipped his laptop so they could see Steph’s video feed as she flipped her lights on and she peered at her screen, asking, “Tim, when did you get five additional children?”

Robin laughed, then answered, “These are my friends from school. Katy, Odessa, Jake, Margot, and Robert.”

Steph nodded, yawning, and Katy eagerly announced, “Tim said that you and him planned out how to get the dress code changed when you were at Gotham Academy and offered to help us out. We’ve been going through the loopholes and are trying to plan out when to do what.”

They spiraled into planning for another few hours, until dinner was ready and Jason bullied the whole group of them into the dining room to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim is having _so much fun_ corrupting the next generation and Jason is just glad that they're on the side of good and not evil. And I'm having so much fun writing this, in case you couldn't guess.


	11. Chapter 11

The next Tuesday was one of Headmaster Welworth’s ‘weekly PTA parent bootlicking session’, as Katy called it, and the first day of Operation Dress Code Destruction. Robin’s skirt was firetruck red and swished around his ankles in a way that was _weird_ , but also kinda fun. He felt a little nervous as he climbed out of the car at Gotham Academy, but it was mostly shoved aside by his sheer mischievous glee and determination. He could _feel_ people’s eyes on him, but Robin reminded himself that he had Tim and Jason backing him up and his friends at his side as he walked to where he could see an eye-bleedingly bright pink mini skirt that no doubt belonged to Jake. He approached their bench and Jake waved eagerly, calling, “Robin! I love your skirt!”

Robin grinned and fist-bumped Jake, answering, “I like yours, too. Gotta say, you rock neon pink.”

“Ya think? I borrowed it from my aunt and I gotta say, I’m actually really enjoying wearing it.”

Robin grinned, then turned to Robert, who was dressed in an extremely fancy yellow skirt with tulle and sequins and looking a mix of amused and smug as he stated, “At least half a dozen PTA parents have seen us so far.”

Odessa had her face buried in her hands and was giggling hysterically, Katy looked deeply amused and a little jealous that she, Margot, and Odessa weren’t an open part of that day’s loophole exploitation, and Margot got her phone out as soon as Robin approached and stated, “Mom wants photos of you three.”

Robin grinned, setting his bag down and wrapping his arms around Jake’s and Robert’s shoulders as Margot took a photo and showed it to them. Robin grinned, then fished out his new phone that he had gotten and asked, “Can you send that to me?”

“Sure thing.”

There was a sharp, disgusted gasp from behind them and Robin turned to see who he assumed to be a PTA dad staring at them in disgust. Robin gave him a bright grin, waving, and the man made another disgusted noise, then turned and stalked into the school as Odessa toppled against Katy’s side, falling into another round of hysterical laughter. Then Tim, wearing a crisp suit and an amused expression, walked by them, giving them a wave. Robin waved back and Katy gasped, then asked, “Did Tim join the PTA?!?”

Robin grinned so wide it was starting to hurt and answered, “He thought it would be the best way to keep an eye on everything and try to maybe change things from that end. He’s promised to give me a detailed report of everything that happens in the meetings.”

Jake lightly punched Robin’s shoulder, then stated, “Dude, you have _the coolest_ adoptive dads.”

“Trust me, you have no idea.”

Katy beamed at Robin, then announced, “I want you to know that my new goal in life is to become even _half_ as awesome as Tim.”

Robin squished himself onto the bench next to her and patted her shoulder, then cheerily answered, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re well on your way. I mean, you have the strong convictions about justice, the chaotic streak, the planning skills, and the general disregard for people’s opinions about you, so all you really need is to learn how to hack computers and a position as the CEO of a big company.”

Katy clutched her hand to her chest, then answered, “I think that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me, Robin, I really, really do.”

Robin laughed, then jumped when the sharp voice of Headmaster Welworth snarled, “You three, come with me.”

Robin looked up, projecting as much innocent ‘who, me?’ into his voice as he physically could as he asked, “Is something wrong, sir?”

Headmaster Welworth was turning a shade of red that nearly matched Robin’s skirt and he snarled, “You three are flagrantly disobeying the dress code and making a _mockery_ of this fine school!”

Jake shifted, looking understandably nervous, but Robin channeled the confidence and blatant disregard for common sense that had allowed him to look at the car of Gotham’s most terrifying vigilante couple and try to jack its tires, then, keeping his tone light and innocent, answered, “Actually, sir, according to the dress code, there are no regulations regarding skirts for boys.”

“My office. _NOW_.”

Robin stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and Robert, Jake, and Robin all followed. They were soon seated in the uncomfortable wooden chairs in Welworth’s office and Welworth settled into his own chair, steepling his fingers and stating, “Ms. Smith is calling your parents now. Such flagrant disregard for the dress code and the disrespect you in particular have shown, Mr. Walsh, is grounds for suspension.”

Robin widened his eyes in a show of false innocence, then answered, “Oh, there’s really no need for Ms. Smith to call my guardians. My foster father, Tim Drake-Wayne-Todd, recently joined the PTA and is actually here today.”

Welworth looked supremely doubtful and replied, “I was unaware that Mr. Drake-Wayne-Todd had taken in a child.”

“They’ve been working hard to keep it out of the media until I’m ready.”

“I’m sure. Ms. Smith will be calling your guardians regardless.”

Robin shrugged, looking around the office, and Jake bounced his knee nervously, rubbing his palms over his skirt as Welworth stated, “I must say, Mr. Doyle, I expected better from someone here on a _scholarship_. Considering that your scholarship is reliant on you having a clean disciplinary record, I-”

“Actually, Headmaster Welworth, the Wayne Foundation Scholarship states that students must not have repeated and severe discipline issues. Minor discipline issues are an expected part of being a human and therefore will not affect a student’s eligibility for the Wayne Foundation Scholarship.”

Welworth looked startled at Tim’s voice and Tim moved to sit in the chair beside Robin, continuing, “I would know, considering that my husband and I helped to write it.”

Tim’s lips twitched at the gobsmacked look on Welworth’s face, then he looked at Jake and Robert, stating, “I like your skirts. I always did think the Gotham Academy needed some more color. Navy blue and grey gets boring after awhile.”

Welworth gritted his teeth loudly enough that Robin could hear them grinding and Tim looked back at Welworth, asking, “So, what seems to be the problem, Headmaster Welworth?”

“Your… _son_ is very clearly violating the dress code, Mr. Drake-Wayne-Todd.”

Tim blinked, looking at Robin, then, false innocence oozing from every pore, he replied, “In what way, Headmaster Welworth?”

The sound of grinding teeth grew louder.

“The dress code clearly states that skirts are to be one inch above the knee and navy blue.”

Robin could see the muscle in Tim’s cheek tick as he fought a smile and Tim turned to Robin, asking, “Robin, do you happen to have a copy of the dress code?”

Robin pulled out the spiral bound booklet that they had given him when he’d first enrolled and handed it to Tim, who set it on the desk and requested, “Could you please show me where it says that, Headmaster Welworth?”

Welworth’s eye was twitching, but he flipped the booklet open and thumbed through it to Regulation 47.6 C, the regulation regarding skirts, before shoving the booklet back at Tim with a smug look on his face. Tim looked at the indicated regulation, nodding as he pretended to read it, then looked back up and stated, “You’ll have to forgive me, Headmaster Welworth, but this is irrelevant.”

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Drake-Wayne-Todd?”

“This regulation is irrelevant. It refers specifically to girls’ skirts and my son is a boy. You wouldn’t apply the boys’ dress code to the girls at Gotham Academy, so I fail to see why you would apply the girls’ dress code to the boys.”

The twitching of Welworth’s eye was actually slightly hypnotic, but Robin tore his gaze away to glance at Jake and Robert, who both looked on in barely-suppressed glee. Welworth opened and closed his mouth a few times, then gritted, “An unfortunate oversight, but it hardly matters. Your son signed an agreement that he would follow the dress code at the time of his enrollment-”

“And you have yet to show me any evidence that he has broken the dress code. If you’d like, though, I’m sure my lawyer would be happy to double-check.”

At the mention of a lawyer getting involved, Welworth’s face went pale, then scarlet, then an odd mix of both as Tim gave him a placid smile and continued, “I’d be happy to call her. She can likely be here within the hour.”

“That... won’t be necessary, Mr. Drake-Wayne-Todd. I’m sure we can resolve this without a lawyer’s involvement.”

Tim gave another placid smile, then answered, “Of course, Headmaster Welworth.”

They sat in silence for several long minutes before a tall, skinny man with the same red hair and extensive freckles as Jake entered the office, greeting, “Headmaster Welworth.”

The man, who was very obviously Jake’s dad, settled into the seat beside Jake and Headmaster began trying to claim that Jake was breaking the dress code, only for Mr. Doyle to pick up the copy of the dress code booklet and repeat the same thing Tim had said about the regulations being specifically for girls. Welworth was turning a truly _fascinating_ shade of puce and Tim patted Robin’s shoulder, then stated, “You’ll have to forgive me, Headmaster Welworth, but I think it is clear to all of us that these three boys haven’t broken any rules. As such, I believe it’s time that these three head off to class before they’re late.”

Robin was genuinely concerned for Welworth’s dental bill, considering the impressive volume the grinding had reached, but Welworth finally gritted out, “Very well. You three are excused.”

Robin stood, retrieving his bag and copy of the dress code, and chirped, “Have a nice day, Headmaster!”

Robin was pretty sure he heard a tooth crack as he, Jake, and Robert made their exit. As soon as they left the front office, they were met by Odessa, Margot, and Katy, who were all looking a mix of stressed and excited. Robin gave them a grin, feeling slightly manic, and Robert held up his hand for a high-five, joking, “Viva la revolution!”

Katy high-fived Robert and Odessa burst into laughter again as Margot nodded, asking, “So you guys aren’t in trouble?”

Jake, who had been vibrating like he was about to explode for nearly half an hour straight, finally burst out, “Nope, cause Robin apparently doesn’t feel fear and Tim is a total boss who just sat down and was like ‘There’s no rule saying they can’t wear fancy skirts’ and threatened to have his lawyer come read through the dress code and you could _hear_ Welworth’s teeth grinding when he realized that he had no power to stop us!!”

Katy fist-pumped as they made their way towards their classes and Robin could feel the tell-tale prickle of people staring at him, but the sweet, sweet memory of Welworth’s face when he realized he was powerless to stop them kept a ridiculous smile on his face as he practically skipped to class, the swish of his skirt around his ankles feeling a hell of a lot like victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love my tiny chaos beans and their supportive chaos parents. And they've barely even gotten started!
> 
> Headmaster Welworth is definitely outmatched.


	12. Chapter 12

Robin slid into his seat in Ms. Benton’s homeroom, giving her a cheerful wave as she raised an amused eyebrow at him. He could see her trying to fight a smile as the bell rang and she made her way around the room, talking with students until she reached Robin and commented, “I don’t recall bright red skirts being allowed in the dress code.”

Robin grinned, then chirped, “There’s no rules against it! Headmaster Welworth already talked to me about it.”

Ms. Benton’s eyebrow rose higher and Robin gave her his most innocent grin, explaining, “The only skirt regulations in the dress code are about girls’ skirts, but it says that anyone can wear a skirt. I can show you, if you’d like!”

Ms. Benton was clearly losing her battle against smiling as she answered, “I trust you, Robin. I’m glad to see that my lessons on close reading and critical analysis of texts are being put to good use, even if it’s for purposes I didn’t foresee.”

Robin beamed and joked, “Any chance of me getting extra credit for it?”

Ms. Benton laughed at that, her eyes twinkling, and answered, “We’ll see.”

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Robin got numerous comments throughout the day, from both teachers and other students, and ended up back in the front office twice, once from Mr. Thame being a jerk and insisting that Robin was lying about having already been and once from a teacher during class change who didn’t even give Robin the chance to protest. Both times, Ms. Smith wrote him a note with a deeply amused look on her face and sent him right back with it. Lunch was interesting, since people kept coming up to Robin, Jake, and Robert to ask what the Hell they were up to, and Robin could see the gears turning in their fellow students’ heads when they explained, which was exciting. Odessa spent most of lunch eagerly filling them all in on the rumors going around the school about them and Katy laid out their plans for that Thursday, when Welworth was having another PTA thing.

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When he got home, Robin found Tim sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over his face as he laughed uncontrollably. His face was red and he had tears streaming down his cheeks and Jason raised an eyebrow as he hung his jacket up, asking, “What’s up with you, Baby Bird?”

Tim waved his phone at them and Jason plucked the phone from his fingers, reading aloud, “Hey, Boyfriend, you’re not gonna believe who joined my and Cass’s ballet class.”

Robin pushed himself onto his toes, peering at the phone, and spotted familiar blonde hair beside familiar strawberry-blonde hair. Tim continued cackling and Jason passed the phone back to him, stating, “Twenty bucks says Steph ends up unofficially adopting Katy within the month.”

“Only if Katy doesn’t end up unofficially adopting Steph first.”

Tim was still wheezing with laughter and Robin plopped into his preferred armchair, adding, “Speaking of Katy, apparently her goal in life is to be like Tim.”

“I’ve met that girl twice and I can already say with conviction that she’s not far off.”

“That’s what I told her!”

Tim finally managed to stop laughing, gasping out, “Willing to bet that she’ll decide that she wants to be like Steph within a few days.”

“Probably.”

Jason ruffled Robin’s hair, then dropped onto the couch as Tim sat up, asking, “So. Timbers already told me his end of… what did you guys call it? Operation Dress Code Destruction?”

“Yep.”

“So now I wanna hear your end of it. How’d it go?”

Robin beamed, then answered, “Better than I could have ever expected. There were, like, _at least_ a dozen kids who I could tell were considering joining us after I told them about it and I only got sent to the front office twice, but Ms. Smith wrote me a note and sent me back with it and it was _so funny_ to see the look on Mr. Thame’s face when I came back and handed him the note that said I wasn’t breaking dress code. I thought he was going to explode!”

Jason leaned over, holding out his hand for a high-five, and Robin gleefully obliged, continuing to tell them about his day. When he finally reached the end of his day and paused to take a breath, Jason grinned and joked, “We should have a family dinner soon so you can tell the rest of the hoard about you following in the Wayne family tradition of chaos-causing.”

“They wouldn’t be upset about me making a scene and… I dunno. Giving you guys a bad name?”

Jason broke down into giggles and Tim looked like he was going to do the same as he answered, “Making a scene and stirring shit up is a time-honored family tradition. I mean, we were literally raised by a classically trained Shakespearean actor and a man who dresses as a bat and punches people in the face. There is not a single person in this entire family who would have _any_ room to judge you for causing a scene, especially causing a scene in the name of justice. Hell, at a gala last year, Dick upended an entire bowl of punch over a guy who made a racist comment about Duke. Just hefted it up and dumped it on the guy’s head. Didn’t even say a word.”

“Timmy here routinely eggs supervillains and once made a video of him anonymously egging Lex Luthor go viral on social media-”

“That will forever be one of my proudest moments.”

“-and Bruce has perfected the art of faking being drunk in order to cause chaos at galas with minimal repercussions. Trust me, if anything, they’ll give you tips on how to cause an _even bigger_ scene.”

Robin nodded, considering that, and Tim chirped, “While you think it over, want me to tell you about the PTA meeting?”

“Hell yes! I promised everyone a full report tomorrow morning.”

“Alrighty. So…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Robin made his way over to their usual bench in his normal uniform, slacks perfectly pressed and tie perfectly tied. He dropped onto the bench beside his friends and Katy immediately announced, “I got to meet Steph in person yesterday at my ballet class and I’ve decided that I want to be just like her.”

“Ha! Called it! And yeah, she texted Tim about it yesterday.”

Katy grinned and Odessa snorted, then reported, “Welworth came walking by about five minutes before you got here and we could see him breathe a sigh of relief when he saw all of us in perfect uniform. I think he’s hoping yesterday was just a fluke.”

“Good. It’ll make it that much more infuriating for him when we come in tomorrow.”

Jake bounced in place eagerly, trembling with either cold or, more likely, excitement as Robert stated, “Our sister Georgie said she’s going to try to talk some of her guy friends into wearing skirts tomorrow, too. And a couple of the guys on the baseball team mentioned that they were thinking of doing it.”

Robin beamed, holding out a hand for a fistbump, and Jake finally piped up, asking, “So? What happened with the PTA thing yesterday? What did Tim tell you?”

“Apparently, the PTA people were pretty divided on it. About half the parents were foaming-at-the-mouth furious about us wearing skirts and tried to claim that we were making the school look bad, while the other half either didn’t care or thought it was actually really funny. Tim’s gonna talk to them about changing the dress code when he gets the chance.”

Jake whooped in delight, punching the air, and they soon dispersed to their classes.

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When Robin reached Ms. Benton’s class for English, he found that, on the board, she had written “EXTRA CREDIT OPPORTUNITY”. Robin slid into his seat as the bell rang and Ms. Benton waited a minute for them to quiet down, then got up and stated, “I’m sure you’re all wondering about the new extra credit opportunity. Recently, a student of mine pointed out some of the bigger loopholes in the school’s dress code policy. So, here’s your assignment: I will give ten points of extra credit on a test of your choosing to any student who can find a loophole in the school’s dress code and write a two paragraph argumentative essay on how your chosen loophole allows for something that is not considered part of the uniform. Your reports are due next Monday, if you choose to do them.”

Robin felt his jaw drop and Ms. Benton continued with her lesson on The Outsiders.


	13. Chapter 13

Thursday morning dawned bright and cold, rare sunlight filtering through Gotham’s perpetual clouds. Robin grinned as he scrambled out of bed, pulling on the upper half of his uniform and the long purple skirt he had borrowed from Steph. Then he picked up the box of bracelets that Steph had loaned him and began loading his arms up with dozens of gold and silver bangles. They jingled cheerily as Robin skipped out to the dining room and Tim looked up at the noise, then grinned, clearly on at least his third cup of coffee as he commented, “I need to send a picture of you to Steph.”

Robin struck a pose as Tim pulled out his phone and Tim snapped a picture, laughing to himself as Robin plopped down to eat breakfast. 

“Make sure you get a photo with all of your friends, too. I’m sure Blondie will piss herself laughing.”

Robin nodded, mouth filled with scrambled eggs, and they soon headed out, Jason accompanying them for the sole purpose of being able to join Tim in defending Robin from Welworth’s accusations.

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When they reached the school, Robin wasted no time running up to where his friends were waiting. He couldn’t help his giggles at the sight of them and skidded to a stop in front of them, his bracelets jingling loudly and echoing in the small courtyard. Robert and Jake were wearing skirts, Robert in pale green and Jake in highlighter yellow, and both were loaded down with bracelets. The real stars of the show, however, were Odessa, Katy, and Margot. Odessa had her long braids woven into an extremely impressive beehive-style hairdo, while Margot and Katy had both used what Robin suspected was an absurd amount of gel to spike their hair into styles similar to the Bride of Frankenstein. All three were loaded down with bracelets, as well as having several dozen bows in their ridiculous hairstyles, and Odessa beamed, chirping, “Welworth’s gonna flip when he sees us.”

Robin giggled madly, then answered, “Oh, absolutely.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a total of ten minutes for Welworth to come storming out of the building, eye twitching as he stalked towards them. Robin waved cheerily, bracelets jingling, and Welworth hissed, “I thought you three were done with this little game of yours. And now you’ve pulled other students into it?”

Robin blinked innocently, then asked, “What game, sir?”

“Don’t you get smart with me, Mr. Walsh. All six of you, my office. NOW!”

Robin shrugged, then skipped towards the front office, each step sending his bracelets jingling loudly. He could hear his friends behind him and, together, the six of them made an almost _deafening_ chorus of clinks and clanks and chimes as they entered the building. Ms. Smith was looking distinctly amused as Robin waved to her and entered Welworth’s office and the six of them were soon squeezed into the office. Once they had all stilled and the jingling of their bracelets had stopped, the grinding of Welworth’s teeth became audible as he gritted out, “Do you children find this _funny_?”

“A little bit, but frankly, sir, I’m mostly just confused. What seems to be the problem?”

Welworth’s eye twitched and Robin wondered if it would reach a point where that twitch started happening every time he saw them, regardless of if they were in proper uniform or not. He _really_ hoped so. They sat in tense silence for a few long seconds, Welworth glaring at Robin with the ferocity of a thousand suns, and Welworth finally gritted out, “The dress code is very clear in its restriction of jewelry.”

“It doesn’t say how many bracelets we’re allowed to wear, though. It just says that bracelets must be metal, silver or gold in color, and cannot have charms or beads. I’d be happy to let you look at all of my bracelets to make sure that none of them violate that.”

“Mr. Walsh, I do _not_ appreciate your attitude.”

Robin gave him a pair of big, innocent doe eyes and Welworth’s eye twitched again before he turned his gaze on Odessa, Katy, and Margot, stating, “And you three. Your hairstyles are in no way appropriate.”

“The school dress code just says that our hair has to be a certain length and can’t be dyed any unnatural colors. I read the whole thing, sir, several times, and it doesn’t say anything about acceptable hairstyles for girls.”

The twitch in Welworth’s eye began again and he snarled, “Ms. Gillespie, I expected better from you than allowing yourself to be sucked into whatever absurd game Mr. Walsh and his friends are playing.”

“Forgive me for saying so, sir, but I fail to see how that is in any way _my_ issue.”

“I was thinking the same thing, Katy. Headmaster Welworth. I thought we had already settled that Robin’s skirt was in no way breaking the dress code.”

Robin turned to see Tim standing in their doorway, Jason behind him, and Welworth’s teeth ground louder as he greeted, “Mr. Drake-Wayne-Todd, Mr. Drake-Wayne-Todd.”

Jason smirked, greeting, “Headmaster Welworth. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“We have not, Mr. Drake-Wayne-Todd.”

Jason moved to stand behind Robin and Robin had to bite his cheek to hide his smile as Tim asked, “So, what seems to be the problem, Headmaster Welworth?”

“The school dress code restrictions for jewelry-”

“Do not include any restrictions in number. We checked. We would be happy to check again, though.”

Welworth’s hands clenched and he gritted out, “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Gladly, Headmaster Welworth. Do you have a copy of the school dress code?”

Welworth pulled a copy of the school dress code out of one of his desk drawers, then dropped it on the desk and pushed it towards them. Jason stepped forwards, flipping through it until he reached the section on jewelry and requesting, “Would you please point out where it restricts the number of bracelets students are allowed to wear?”

Welworth looked down at the dress code, looking smug, and his face slowly morphed into irritation as he stared down at it and inevitably failed to find a number. Finally, he took a deep, _deep_ breath and, sounding like he was in extreme pain, stated, “It appears that you are correct that there is no restriction in number. My… _apologies_.”

Jason looked extraordinarily smug as he replied, “Apology accepted, Headmaster Welworth.”

Welworth’s eye abruptly began twitching more violently and Robin had to bite the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood to stop himself from breaking down into laughter. The jingling of Jake’s bracelets drew Robin’s gaze over to him and he found Jake doubled over in his seat, his whole body shaking and his hands over his face as he tried unsuccessfully to hide his laughter. 

“Is there something you find funny, Mr. Doyle?”

Jake shook his head, not uncovering his face, and gasped, “Thought of a joke. Sorry.”

“I see. You three are dismissed.”

Robin and Robert both stood, but Jake was still huddled in his seat, making little squeaking noises as he tried to strangle his laughter. Welworth growled, then gritted out, “Mr. Walsh, Mr. Henderson, if you two would be so kind as to help Mr. Doyle _out of my office_?”

Robin and Robert hauled Jake to his feet and more or less dragged him out to the lobby, where all three collapsed onto the floor in a cacophony of jingles and uncontrollable laughter. Jake was turning a vaguely alarming shade of red as he laughed, tears streaming down his cheeks, and Robin slumped against the wall, clutching his stomach as he managed to stop laughing long enough to see Tim and Jason exiting the office. The moment he spotted them, however, he was reminded of the way Welworth’s eye twitched at Jason’s “Apology accepted” and promptly dissolved back into helpless laughter. Jason and Tim made their way over and Jason raised an eyebrow at the ungainly heap the trio had ended up in.

“Are you guys okay?”

Robin shook his head, tears streaming down his own face, and Jake finally managed to get himself to stop laughing, only to start again as Robert stated, “I think Headmaster Welworth is gonna kill you. ‘Apology accepted’ is the funniest thing you could have said.”

Jason grinned, looking exactly like Mrs. Garcia’s cat when it caught the pigeon that had gotten into Robin’s old apartment, and answered, “Well, it’s rude to not accept someone’s apology when it’s so _obviously_ sincere.”

Jake started cry-laughing again at that and Jason grinned wider as Tim buried his own face against Jason’s shoulder and burst into giggles. The bell rang not long after and Robin managed to get to his feet, his stomach aching as he helped Robert and Jake up as well. Jake was, to put it nicely, a tear-stained mess as he scrubbed at his face with his sleeve, still laughing breathlessly, and Robert and Robin weren’t much better, all three still half-hysterical as they staggered off to class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday night was a Wayne family dinner. Robin squirmed in the backseat of the car, torn between excitement at seeing Steph so he could give her the hat he had knitted for her with help from Mrs. Rose as a ‘thank you’ for her help and terror that Tim and Jason were wrong and he was about to get yelled at for causing chaos at Gotham Academy, and Tim glanced at him in the rearview mirror, asking, “You nervous?”

“I know you said that they wouldn’t be upset about the whole dress code thing, but- but- What if you’re wrong? What if everyone hates me?”

“Well, I can already tell you that they won’t, but, if, through some form of mind control or alien body-snatching, they get mad at you for it, Jay and I have your back and will figure out how to break the mind control or get back our real family members.”

Robin opened his mouth, then paused, considered, and mused, “I was going to complain about you making fun of me, but mind control and alien body-snatching is an actual possibility that you guys have to deal with, isn’t it? I sometimes forget that you guys are…”

He trailed off, eyes widening, and Jason turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow until Robin squeaked out, “I’m about to eat dinner with Batman.”

“Yeah? And to answer your earlier question, mind control and alien body-snatching are not entirely uncommon, nor is cloning, alien tech being used to make someone look like someone else, or shapeshifters. We live very strange lives.”

Robin swallowed past the lump in his throat and whispered, “I- I forgot that Bruce is Batman.”

“Ah. Well, he’s also your… Is ‘foster grandpa’ a thing? Like, is that a thing that people say? I dunno. This whole fuc- uh, fudging family is a mess and it’s usually better that we just roll with it rather than try to give specific titles to anyone.”

Robin nodded distantly, mind whirring, and he fiddled with his knitting bag, then asked, “Is- Am I supposed to become a hero, too? Like- Like the new Robin or something?”

“I’m fairly certain you’re already a Robin.”

Robin groaned at Jason’s terrible dad joke and Jason gave a grin, then finished, “But to answer your actual question: That’s entirely up to you, once you’re old enough. You’re not hitting the streets until you’re at least 18 and have a minimum of three years of training with _all_ of us, though. And if you decide that the cape and cowl lifestyle isn’t for you, that’s okay, too. We’re not going to try to talk you into it. The choice is yours and yours alone and you’re still one of us no matter what you decide.”

Robin blinked, eyes burning with tears, and he wiped his hoodie sleeve over his eyes, squeaking, “Oh. Okay.”

They lapsed back into peaceful silence for a moment before Tim suddenly asked, “Jay, did you remember to tell everyone that Robin knows?”

“I thought you told them?”

There was a beat of silence, then Tim slowly stated, “Oh. So they… don’t know… that Robin knows…”

“Oh, fuc- fudge yes! This is the perfect opportunity to screw with them! Here’s my idea...”


	14. Chapter 14

Wayne Manor was just as impressive as it had been on his first visit, but Robin ignored the little part of his brain that was freaking out, instead focusing on the fact that he was about to try to prank Batman. Alfred opened the door and gave them a small smile, greeting, “Master Jason, Master Tim, Master Robin.”

“Hi, Alfred. How are you?”

“I am quite well, Master Robin. And you?”

Robin smiled shyly, then answered, “I’m good. I finished the hat you helped me with! And I made one for Steph!”

“Is that so? I’m sure Miss Stephanie will love it. She is in the library with Miss Barbara, if you wish to give it to her now.”

Robin grinned as they entered the house and headed up to the library, where he found Steph, Barbara, and Cass. Cass was braiding Barbara’s hair as Barbara did something on her laptop and Steph was laying on the couch with her head in Cass’s lap, her legs slung over the armrest. She looked up when they entered and Barbara glanced up from her laptop, then immediately looked back down and stated, “Whatever you fools are plotting, I want no part in it.”

“Geez, sure is nice to see you, too, Barbie. And to think, we were plotting something you would enjoy, too.”

Steph perked up at the mention of plotting and sat up, asking, “Plotting? What’s being plotted? Does it involve messing with B?”

Tim laughed, then answered, “Doesn’t it always, Steph?”

Steph rolled her eyes and Robin shifted, then blurted out, “I made something for you, Steph.”

“Oh?”

Robin pulled out the wrapped purple hat with little bat ears on it, then handed it to her, stating, “It’s to thank you for helping us plot the thing at school and letting me borrow some of your clothes.”

Steph unwrapped the hat, then gasped and immediately pulled it on, announcing, “This is so cute!”

“Tim said that you’re a fan of Batgirl, so when I saw the pattern, I thought you’d like it.”

Steph shot Tim a _look_ , then rolled off the couch to give Robin a hug, stating, “I love it! And yeah, Batgirl is awesome.”

Robin nodded as Steph released him, replying, “She is pretty badass. But honestly? I think you’re cooler.”

Steph giggled, then ruffled Robin’s hair and stated, “You’re a sweet kid and I’m officially declaring you my favorite male member of this family. Not including Alfred, though, because he’s a god and therefore above classification.”

Robin blushed and Steph stood up fully as Tim melodramatically exclaimed, “What?!? My title has been usurped?!?”

Steph snorted, pulling a hair band off her wrist and shooting it at Tim, then answered, “Please, Boyfriend, you and I both knew that this was coming. I’m replacing you with a younger model.”

Tim clutched his chest where the hair band had hit him, staggering back to collapse against Jason and draping an arm over his eyes dramatically as he wailed, “Lo, I am slain! Avenge me, darling husband!”

“You’re a disgrace to acting and I can’t believe I used to date you, Boyfriend.”

Robin looked between them, giggling, and Tim cracked an eye open to give Robin a betrayed look, then straightened up and shot the hair band back at Steph. Steph stuck her tongue out, slipping the band back onto her wrist, and Barbara looked up from her computer as Cass finished braiding her hair and stuck out a hand for a hair band. Steph passed one over and Cass tied off Barbara’s braid, then stood and walked over to give Jason and Tim tight hugs. Then she looked at Robin, tipped her head curiously, and held her arms open in invitation. Robin hesitated, then stepped forward to let his foster-aunt(?) hug him. Cass gave him a tight hug, then patted his head, looking pleased, and stated, “Nephew.”

Robin blushed, then tipped his head thoughtfully and asked, “Should I call you Aunt Cass? Or just Cass?”

Cass shrugged, smiling, and Steph gasped, exclaiming, “Ooh, I call being Aunt Steph!”

Robin twisted to look at her, then joked, “Sorry, Dick already claimed being Aunt Steph.”

Steph laughed at that, ruffling Robin’s hair gently, and snarked, “Alright, smartass, then I call being Uncle Dick.”

“Okay, Uncle Dick.”

Steph dragged Robin in to give him a noogie as Jason and Tim howled with laughter, then huffed, “Honestly, what is it about this family that attracts smartasses?”

Barbara gave Steph a distinctly judgmental look, then commented, “I don’t know, Steph, what attracted you to this family?”

“I thought Tim was hot and I thought I was straight. And then I realized that neither of those were accurate.”

Tim rolled his eyes and Jason stepped in to defend Tim’s hotness.

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Robin was squished between Dick and Damian on the couch, a video game controller in hand as he got his ass kicked at Mario Kart. Steph was cheering him on, talking shit at Dick and Damian and occasionally tossing things at them to distract them. They finished the final lap, Robin coming in fourth, and Damian patted his head in a way that felt slightly condescending as Dick gave him a high-five and cheered, “Good try, Robin!”

“You will make an acceptable adversary with training.”

“Thanks?”

Damian nodded imperiously and Jason rolled his eyes, teasing, “Just admit you like the kid and be done with it, Demon Brat.”

“I will do nothing of the sort, Todd.”

Robin looked up at Damian with his eyes wide and sad, asking, “You like me? Really?”

Damian stared down at him as Tim and Jason laughed in the background, then finally gritted out, “I do not… _dislike_ you.”

Judging from the way Dick cooed and dragged a protesting Damian (and a not-protesting Robin) into a tight hug, Robin was fairly certain that was high praise coming from Damian. Damian gave a put-upon sigh and Robin squirmed where he was pinned between Dick and Damian’s chests, prompting Dick to release them and ruffle Robin’s hair gently. Damian straightened his shirt and Alfred entered the room, stating, “Dinner is ready.”

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It wasn’t until they were all seated around the dining room table, halfway through the delicious chicken parmesan Alfred had made, that Robin slipped up. He was studying Clark, trying to figure out _where_ he knew his foster-grandpa’s boyfriend from, when the realization hit him so hard that he jerked, slamming his knee into the bottom of the table and inhaling so sharply that he choked on his bite of chicken and doubled over coughing. Jason rubbed his back gently as Robin coughed and wheezed and Robin nearly knocked his glass of water over as he scrambled to grab it and take a drink. The chatter around the table fell silent, everyone looking at Robin in concern, and _fucking SUPERMAN_ gently asked, “Are you alright, Robin?”

Robin nodded, feeling a blush burning in his cheeks, and Tim gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, asking, “What was that about?”

Robin darted a glance at Superman, then at who he finally realized were the two Superboys, then leaned over to Tim and hissed, “You didn’t tell me Bruce was dating Superman!”

From across the table, Superman- _Clark_ \- choked on his own food, clearly having heard Robin because _he had superhearing and Robin was apparently a fucking idiot_ , and Tim facepalmed, muttering, “Oh boy.”

Bruce was looking understandably confused and Tim sighed, stating to the room at large, “I suppose the jig is up.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow and Tim took a deep breath, clearly playing it up for the drama, then turned to Robin and stated, “Robin, we haven’t been entirely truthful with you.”

Okay, apparently they were changing the timeline for their prank. That made sense. But Robin had his own ideas for the prank that would include fucking with Tim and Jason.

“You- What?”

Tim hesitated, then stated, “I’m Red Robin. Jason is Red Hood. Bruce is Batman, Dick is-”

“Bullshit.”

Tim raised an eyebrow at Robin, who raised an eyebrow back, and Robin heard Jason’s muffled laughter behind him as Tim muttered, “This was not the plan.”

Robin raised his eyebrow higher and Tim sighed. Before he could say anything else, though, Clark cut in, “You already figured out that I’m Superman. Is it really that hard to believe that Bruce is Batman?”

Robin turned to look at Clark, then at Bruce, and then stated, “Everyone knows Batman is a vampire. And that he’s married.”

Jason’s muffled laughter became louder and Tim snorted, pressing a hand over his mouth as Clark blinked in surprise. 

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. Everyone knows he’s married to Commissioner Gordon.”

Dick doubled over, cackling, as Barbara giggled and oh yeah, she’s Commissioner Gordon’s daughter.

Oops.

The rest of the table dissolved into laughter and Clark looked like he had been smacked as Bruce buried his head in his hands, muttering, “Why? How?”

Then he stood and stated, “I can prove that I’m Batman.”

Robin raised an eyebrow and Bruce gestured for Robin to follow him. Robin did so, hearing Tim following behind, and Bruce led him to an office, approaching the grandfather clock and adjusting the hands. The clock slid open and Bruce waved for Robin to follow him, which Robin did, down a seemingly endless flight of stone stairs. The clock slid shut behind Tim and they soon reached an enormous cavern with a massive dinosaur, a collection of glass cases with uniforms, and a computer that made Robin’s fingers itch to open up the casing and poke around. He stared around the _fucking Batcave_ in wonder, then caught a glimpse of Bruce looking distinctly smug and made a split-second decision.

“This doesn’t prove anything.”

Bruce blinked, looking slightly baffled, and Tim gave a noise like a dying cat as Bruce slowly asked, “It… doesn’t?”

“Nope. You fund Batman, _of course_ he works out of your basement. I’m not stupid, y’know.”

“I- I didn’t think you were?”

Bruce shot Tim a desperate look and Robin looked up at the ceiling of the Cave, doing his level-best not to smile or laugh as he asked, “Does Batman sleep up there?”

There was a soft thump as Tim crumpled to the stone floor, still giggling madly, and Bruce just stared at Robin, who stared back for a moment before looking back up and asking, “Is it true that the Robins are just bats that Batman turned into people to be his partners?”

“Wha- No. Is that actually a thing that people think?”

No, but Robin wasn’t about to admit that.

“Well, they have to come from _somewhere_ , don’t they? And it’s not like Batman can just show up at the local adoption center and ask them for a black-haired boy with badass fighting skills. Well, I mean, he _could_ , I guess, but I doubt it would work.”

Bruce was staring at Robin like _Robin_ was the one who decided that dressing up like Dracula’s furry little brother was a good idea and Robin finally cracked, breaking down into laughter as he stated, “I’m messing with you. Tim and Jason already told me a few days ago.”

Bruce blinked a few times, then buried his face in hands and gave a noise halfway between a laugh and a groan, stating, “The _audacity_ of kids these days.”

Robin giggled, then gave Bruce his biggest, most innocent smile and chirped, “What can I say, I wanted to see the Batcave.”

“ _The audacity_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chaos baby doing chaos things!


	15. Chapter 15

Bruce gave Robin a brief tour of the Batcave before Alfred descended the stairs into the Cave, looking rather disapproving as he stated, “I believe that the tour can wait until after dinner, Master Bruce.”

Bruce gave Alfred an apologetic look, then ushered Robin and Tim back up the stairs and into the dining room. Everyone stared at Robin expectantly and Robin fought back his smile, stating, “I’m still not wholly convinced.”

Bruce facepalmed and Clark looked gobsmacked as Dick giggled maniacally and stated, “Well, I’m sure Babs would be happy to confirm that, at the very least, Batman is _not_ married to her dad.”

“Do _not_ drag me into your nonsense, Richard Grayson. I’m not going to be able to look my dad in the face without laughing for at least a few weeks.”

Robin gave an abashed smile, then apologized, “Sorry. I kinda forgot the Commissioner was your dad.”

“It’s forgiven. But I’m telling him that there’s a rumor going around that he’s married to Batman.”

Robin laughed and Steph shook her head fondly, sighing, “This is why everyone is convinced Bruce has just spent the last however many years cloning himself to create children. One snarky, black-haired, blue-eyed kid, that’s a funny coincidence. By the third one, that’s a pattern. And now you two doofuses have started. Give it twenty years and Gotham will be overrun.”

Jason flipped Steph off, then stated, “You shut your filthy mouth, Stephanie Brown. We, unlike Bruce, have only adopted _one_ child.”

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As Robin’s quest for dress code reform continued to escalate, so too did his interest in becoming a vigilante. At first, he thought that the joy he was taking from flagrantly and openly exploiting the loopholes in the dress code was simply delight at raising Hell, but, as the weeks ticked by, he realized that it was because he was raising Hell in the name of _justice_. And so, just over a month after they had taken him in, Robin worked up the courage to ask if he could start training.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were halfway through dinner and Robin was about to squirm out of his skin with anxiety. He could feel Jason and Tim looking at him, clearly concerned, and finally Jason sighed and asked, “Is something wrong, Robin? You seem nervous.”

Robin squirmed more, then finally blurted out, “Can you train me? Please? To be a vigilante? I know you said that I can’t go out until I’m 18, but you also said that I have to have three years of training, so I was hoping that I could start now and have a couple extra years of training?”

His voice rose in pitch and speed as he made his request, ending in a squeak, and Jason blinked before finally stating, “I think that’s a good idea. If for no other reason than self-defense training may come in handy once we officially announce that we’re fostering you.”

Tim nodded thoughtfully, then offered, “I can get to work on setting up a training plan for you.”

Robin nodded, feeling the anxiety ebb away, and Jason pointed a fork at him, stating, “But don’t even _think_ about trying to go out until you’re 18.”

Robin rolled his eyes, then answered, “I’m not going to!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the two month anniversary of his living with Tim and Jason, everything came to a head, both good and bad. It was a surprisingly sunny Tuesday and Robin started his day, as had become practically tradition, dressed in the most absurd possible outfit he could come up with that still fit the dress code. That particular Tuesday, Robin was dressed in the same red skirt that had started the whole debacle, with his arms loaded down with bracelets, his shirt inside out and worn over top of his also inside out blazer, his tie upside down, and a pair of shiny black leather pixie boots with bright red, six-inch tall platform soles hanging from his belt. Tim’s suggestion of shoe inserts glued inside their socks to give them protection from the ground was honestly a lifesaver and Robin made a mental note to thank him for the idea as he jingled his way towards the school, grinning as he spotted the numerous other students who had gotten in on the fun. In the course of their revolution, the school had steadily become a riot of brightly colored skirts and increasingly absurd hair-dos, with enormous collections of bracelets and ridiculous shoes thrown into the mix. Several members of the school’s gymnastics and cheerleading teams had even begun wearing stilts to school after realizing that they weren’t _technically_ banned, adding to the circus vibe, and Robin had laughed himself to tears when he first spotted them, then gone over to tell them how awesome they were. Most teachers had completely given up on trying to enforce the dress code, given that there was nothing they could do, and, much to Robin’s delight, Headmaster Welworth had developed a twitch in his eye every time he saw Robin and his friends, regardless of how they were dressed. He had also taken to speaking to them through gritted teeth, clearly resisting the urge to strangle the whole group, and Robin was genuinely a little concerned that Welworth was going to end up snapping and turning to supervillainy. 

Not concerned enough to stop, mind you, but concerned nonetheless. 

It all culminated in them getting called into the auditorium for an assembly. Robin and his friends managed to snag seats in the front row, right where Welworth could see them, and Jake jittered to Robin’s left side, the bouncing of his knee just barely visible through the enormously poofy skirt he had borrowed from Katy as he whispered, “What do you think this is about?”

Before Robin could answer, however, Welworth stepped out on the stage, mic in hand and eye twitching as he looked over the auditorium. The hushed chatter fell silent before Welworth gritted out, “It has come to my attention in the last few months that Gotham Academy’s dress code is considered… _unpalatable_ and outdated by much of the student body. The administration has heard your complaints and have, with the help of Gotham Academy’s PTA, worked to reform the dress code to better suit the student body.”

Robin couldn’t help his fistpump and Welworth glared at him, continuing, “Your homeroom teachers have been supplied with the updated dress code booklets and will pass them out after this assembly. You are dismissed.”

There was a stampede for the doors, but Robin and his friends hung back so they didn’t get trampled. Katy was beaming and Robert held out his hand for fistbumps, cheering, “Viva la revolution, baby!”

Jake whooped and Odessa burst into giggles, confessing, “I’ll admit, I’m almost sad that they changed the dress code already. I was really hoping that we’d be able to keep this going for longer. I’ve been having fun.”

Robin bumped his fist against Robert’s, then stated, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We haven’t seen the new dress code, so we don’t know for sure that it’s not even stricter.”

They headed towards the doors once the stampede had cleared, debating if they thought the new dress code would be better or worse and what they would do if it was worse, and headed for their homerooms. Robin entered Ms. Benton’s room with a jingly wave and she waved back, then held up a stack of booklets that Robin assumed were the new dress code booklets, if they could even be called that. They were tiny, basically a pamphlet, and especially so when compared to the small textbook that the old dress code booklets were. As the bell rang, Ms. Benton got up and began passing them out, stating, “I must say, class, I don’t think I have ever been prouder of a group of students. And I sincerely hope you have all gained a valuable understanding of the importance of unions and the power of the many.”

Robin beamed, unable to even begin to control it, as he skimmed through the dress code booklet, which had been pared down until it was almost as loose as the dress code at Robin’s old school. The giddy joy followed him through the rest of the day, right up until P.E.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robin was hidden behind the bleachers, avoiding getting roped into a game of kickball, when a voice on the other side of the chain link fence asked, “Holy shit, _Robin_? ‘S that you, dude?”

Robin looked up from tracing circles in the dirt with a stick and found himself peering at none other than Ethan Rose, a guy who used to live across from him and his parents and who used to play basketball with Robin sometimes. He blinked in surprise at the 16-year old, then replied, “Ethan? The Hell are you doing here?”

Ethan stared at him, then answered, “What am _I_ doing here? What the fuck are _you_ doing here, man? We all thought you’d bit it with your parents and instead you’re livin’ it up at some rich kid school?”

Robin winced at the mention of his parents and Ethan’s harsh tone softened as he backpedaled, “Shit, sorry, dude. That was… That was too far. But seriously, what the Hell, man?”

Robin continued doodling in the dirt, then answered, “I, uh, I ended up with a foster family.”

Ethan looked understandably alarmed at that and Robin quickly assured him, “They’re cool, they’re cool. They, uh, they’re Tim and Jason Drake-Wayne-Todd.”

“Fuckin’ _what_?”

Robin shrugged, unsure of what to say, and, even though he didn’t look any less alarmed, Ethan shifted to lean against the fence and lit up a cigarette, asking, “So, why’re you hidin’ under the bleachers?”

“Cause I don’t really wanna play kickball. What are _you_ doing here, Ethan?”

Ethan blew out a puff of smoke, then answered, “Can you keep a secret?”

“You know I can, Ethan.”

Ethan sighed, then pointed at the supply shed with his cigarette, stating, “Heard a rumor that some of the rich kids here have a stash of coke in the shed over there. My buddy Freddy, he’s got a friend who said that a whole group of ‘em store it there and I’m hurtin’ for cash. Pops got real sick a few months ago and took out a loan with the Snakes to pay the medical bills, but he can’t pay up and they’re threatenin’ to off him if he doesn’t cough up the dough in the next couple weeks. I was thinkin’ I’d come up here, snag the coke after everyone leaves, and sell it off to get the cash I need.”

Robin winced in sympathy, looking over at the shed, then stated, “I didn’t tell you this, but there’s a hole in the fence about thirty feet that way, behind that big bush. It’s big enough to squeeze through.”

Ethan bit his lip, then asked, “Can you show me?”

Robin hesitated, then, as Coach Reske shouted about the start of a new kickball game, answered, “Alright, but promise me that you won’t hurt anyone?”

Ethan promised and Robin walked out to the hole in the fence, climbing out through it. As soon as he had slipped out of the bush and turned to untangle the hem of his shirt from the branches, however, a meaty arm wrapped around his throat and cut off his air supply. Robin kicked and fought ineffectively, his vision going dark around the edges, and he had just enough time to realize that he had fucked up before everything went black.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY IMPORTANT TRIGGER WARNING: The beginning of this chapter contains the semi-graphic torture of a child. If you want to skip that part, skip the part between the asterisks. Thank you and take care of yourselves please.

***

Robin woke up slowly, his head throbbing and his cheek pressed against rough concrete. His hands were bound behind him with what felt like duct tape and trying to twitch the fingers of his left hand forced a half-strangled scream out of his bruised throat, muffled by the fabric stuffed in his mouth and the layers of tape keeping it there. His ankles were similarly bound and his hair felt wet and sticky and warm in a way that Robin recognized as bloody, probably from whatever head wound was making his head hurt so badly. He dragged his eyes open and squinted around the small, dark room he was in, fighting back the nausea the action brought with it. It looked like a closet of some sort, with the only light coming from the crack under the door, and Robin slumped back against the wall he was leaned against, letting his eyes slip back shut. He distantly heard a door slam, then a man’s voice asked, “You get the brat?”

There was the sound of someone moving, then the door was pulled open and Robin pried his eyes back open, squinting at the blurry forms standing in the doorway as another man stated, “Yep. A bit banged up, but alive. That Rose kid said the dumbass came right to him.”

Robin glared at the figures and tried to push himself to his feet, fully intent on body-slamming them. Before he could, though, a heavy boot was placed on his ankle and one of the figures leaned in close, close enough for Robin to make out the scar across the bridge of the guy’s crooked nose as the man stated, “Don’t even think about it, brat, or we’ll break your fuckin’ ankle.”

Robin glared at the man with the fury of a thousand suns, hoping it helped hide just how much he was panicking inside. The man scoffed, then straightened back up, looking at the other and ordering, “Get him in the chair while I get the camera prepped.”

The other nodded, then grabbed Robin by the hair and dragged him up and out of the closet. Robin cried out in pain, but was ignored as the person dragged him and forced him down into a chair, using more duct tape to bind his wrists to the chair’s back. Scar-Dude was prepping a camera a few feet away and the guy behind Robin stepped away once he was sure that Robin couldn’t escape, taunting, “You ready to make a movie, kid? Who knows, maybe you’ll even get famous.”

Robin glared, wishing he wasn’t gagged just so that he could tell the guy to go fuck a cactus, and Scar-Dude scoffed, “Ah, don’t give the little brat false hope, Nick.”

Not-Scar-Dude, Nick, laughed and grabbed a ski mask from the nearby table, pulling it on before picking up a crowbar and flipping it in his hand, asking, “Ready, Mikey?”

Scar-Dude, Mikey, nodded and a small red light appeared on the camera. Nick strutted into the camera’s view behind Robin, twirling the crowbar lazily, and, addressing the camera, greeted, “Mr. Drake-Wayne-Todd, Mr. Drake-Wayne-Todd. Gotta say, you got a real nice kid. Pretty, too. Be a real shame if something happened.”

Robin could hear the leer in Nick’s voice, but any dread or disgust he felt was immediately set aside when the metal of the crowbar collided with his ribs, not quite hard enough to break them, but hard enough to turn Robin’s vision white with agony. Another blow connected with the other side a moment later and Robin distantly realized that he was screaming, tears streaming down his cheeks, but he couldn’t stop himself. He could distantly hear Nick babbling about ransoms, but Robin couldn’t focus on anything but the white-hot pain. Another strike from the crowbar, this one to Robin’s thigh, and Robin’s vision went dark around the edges, unconsciousness dragging him down. 

***

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When Robin woke up again, he was still in the chair, his whole body throbbing. Mikey was sitting at the table, playing solitaire, and Robin realized slowly that he was no longer gagged and that he was covered in what he assumed was probably his own vomit. His mouth tasted like something had died in it and his throat felt raw and bruised, but Robin was counting the fact that he was still alive as a win. The room was silent and Robin took the time to mentally curse himself off for trusting Ethan and for not having the panic button Jason had given him with him. He was about halfway through when the sound of gunshots reached him. He lifted his head, hope bubbling up in his gut, and the gunshots grew louder and louder, accompanied by yelling and shouting. Then the flimsy door of the room Robin was chained up in was kicked in and a blessedly familiar figure stepped in, red helmet and silver pistols glinting in the light. Red Hood, _Jason_ , aimed his pistols at Mikey, who had gone completely pale, and Mikey stammered, “R-Red Hood. This- This ain’t what it looks like, the kid-”

Nightwing slipped into the room behind Jason and made quick work of cutting Robin loose from the chair, scooping him up and carrying him out of the room. A gunshot and the sound of screaming followed them and Robin buried his face in Dick’s kevlar-clad shoulder, relieved sobs tearing through him. Dick rubbed Robin’s back gently, murmuring soothingly, and Robin curled into his hold, then whispered, “W-Where’s Tim?”

Dick ran his fingers through Robin’s bloody hair, then murmured, “He’s with the police right now. He wanted to be able to stay with you once we got you out.”

Another sob wracked Robin’s body as they passed through another door and a cold wind made Robin shiver. He cracked an eye open, peering around, and the flashing lights of cop cars and ambulances made him bury his face back in Dick’s shoulder. Then Tim’s voice shouted, “Robin!”

Robin lifted his head again as Dick gently set him on a gurney and Tim rushed forwards as Dick turned to speak quietly to the waiting EMTs. Robin burrowed into Tim’s offered hug, not even caring that he was covered in blood and vomit and who knows what else, and Tim murmured soothingly, holding Robin just tightly enough for Robin to feel safe without hurting his ribs. Robin sobbed, then, as the adrenaline started to fade and exhaustion set in, promptly passed right back out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Robin woke up again, he was in a bed, a soft blanket tucked around him and something warm resting against the side of his leg. He opened his eyes to stare at the light blue ceiling of his bedroom, a soft groan escaping him, and took stock of his body, cataloging the splints on his fingers and the floaty feeling that was presumably from some form of pain medicine, considering how little he hurt. The warmth against his leg shifted and Robin slowly lifted his head to see Jason slumped over in a chair, his feet up on the bed and a heel pressed against Robin’s leg. Robin gently nudged Jason’s foot and Jason jerked awake, eyes widening when he saw that Robin was awake. He scrambled to sit up with his feet properly on the floor, then leaned forward, asking, “How’re you feeling, Robin?”

Robin mumbled something that was unintelligible even to him, then swallowed around the dry soreness of his mouth and throat and rasped, “Wa’er?”

Jason grabbed a cup from the bedside table and plucked a piece of ice from it, answering, “Ice chips. Open up.”

Robin opened his mouth, allowing Jason to place the ice on his tongue, and gave a soft noise of relief, reaching out for the cup. Jason gave it to him, allowing Robin to work his way through the ice chips as Jason ran his fingers through Robin’s hair, stating, “I’m so sorry this happened, Robin.”

Robin huffed, leaning his head into Jason’s hand and closing his eyes, and crunched down on a particularly large ice chip, then mumbled, “‘S not your fault. No ‘pologies.”

Jason opened his mouth to argue, but Robin cracked an eye open to glare at him, pointing at him with an unbroken finger and repeating, “No ‘pologies. Too tired for stupid.”

Jason smiled, then answered softly, “Okay. You can go back to sleep if you want, Robin.”

  
Robin reached for another ice chip, but the cup was empty and Robin frowned slightly before deciding that he was _really_ too tired for it and slumped back against his pillows. Jason’s hand continued petting through his hair and Robin let the gentle touch soothe him back to sleep, safe and snuggled in his own bed with one of Gotham’s most feared vigilantes watching over him.


End file.
